More Than Friends
by Lucifer Rosemaunt
Summary: Continuation to Imaginary Friends. ErikRaoul slash. A healthy dose of Philippe in this story. Erik and Raoul start a new life together, but as what to each other?
1. A Day Off

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: Continuation to Imaginary Friends. Erik and Raoul are trying to make things work between them, but can they really just be friends?  
Warning(s): slash  
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul  
Word Count: 4,437

A/N: It took a while, but here this is. I hate diverging so much from canon's plotline (as you well should notice), but seeing how the opera house is burned down already, there's little else I can do about that. So enjoy this rather big project (in my mind, it is).  
Story note: Some points…  
1) You should read Imaginary Friends before reading this or else you'll just miss a lot of the references and characterizations and you'll probably think Raoul's really insane instead of… endearing.  
2) Expect the rating to go up (eventually). Since there was no smut in IF, you'll get it here.  
3) It's filled with OC's (something I'm naturally wary of, but they're moving away from Opera Populaire life and I don't see why they'd want to socialize with those people anymore after everything's that's happened.)  
4) There's an Alphabet Game insert in this story (a pretty damn promising one too); if you take a guess in a review (only one chance), I'll tell you if you're right (and then you can wait with bated breath for it to appear).

Now, if I didn't dissuade you with all that, here's the fic. Sorry (truly) and Thanks to all the people who've been waiting for this sequel (it's just five months late).

o.o.o.o

More Than Friends  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 01 – A Day Off

o.o.o.o

Raoul groaned, tugging the blankets closer to himself high enough to cover his face. The sun was already shining through the windows of his room. He cursed himself for forgetting to close the curtains the night before. A couple more hours seemed like a good plan; he didn't have anything pressing to attend to. Then maybe, he'd be ready to face the day.

_You should probably wake up regardless_, Erik suggested.

_It's early_. Raoul rolled onto his stomach, wrapping himself tighter into the blankets.

_True_, Erik admitted, _but weren't you going to spend the day with Philippe today?_

Raoul paused to think about that. His brother had been busy the weeks since Erik's return, which Raoul understood. Philippe had been focused only on him during the entire fiasco, and Raoul couldn't help but feel guilty that Philippe was now inundated with work. In fact, Erik had been busy as well. He was constantly out of the house, though he never mentioned what he was doing. And while Raoul did have his own work to keep him busy, frequently, he found himself with free time without anyone with whom to spend it. The Opera Populaire had been his biggest venture, and without that, he barely needed time to maintain his other businesses.

Since Philippe owned all the Chagny property, Raoul's own efforts at offering his support to maintain their lifestyle was rather superfluous. Philippe had always taken care of them, Raoul and his sisters. After their parents had died, instead of taking their inheritance, they'd willingly given it to Philippe to maintain. His brother had given each of them a stipend as well as providing them with food, clothing, and shelter.

His sisters no longer needed the help, having been married off to well-to-do men. To this day, Philippe checked on them every other month to make sure they were still happy and without any want. Raoul, on the other hand, still received that stipend, and not needing any use for it, spent it on charities, supporting the arts, and other business ventures he saw fit. He always believed that it was his duty to help uphold the Chagny name while Philippe was busy in ensuring their futures. Any money Raoul did earn ultimately went straight to the Chagny estate again, but he hadn't been able to imagine a life where he spent his days doing nothing. He'd been trying to emulate Philippe for so long it only seemed right for him to try his hand at business as well.

Raoul had never found anything that interested him though. He'd never truly invested his time and effort in a project like he had with the Opera Populaire.

_But that had only been because of us,_ Erik commented.

Raoul rolled his eyes. _You mean because of the other Erik. You were notably absent for a long while, remember?_

_I remember_. He replied unapologetically, and Raoul knew without asking that he believed it was better when he wasn't around. They'd been having the same argument over his existence ever since Erik, the once opera ghost, moved into the house. Of course Raoul could see his side of the argument, he simply refused to accept the conclusion that he'd be left alone.

_You're not alone anymore,_ Erik said, eavesdropping on Raoul's thoughts. He added, _And it's not eavesdropping._

Raoul grinned for a brief moment before he answered, _The other Erik's just a friend. Well, we're going to be friends… eventually. You and I on the other hand, are something else._

Erik gave a dramatic sigh, _How many times have we gone over this? Make him something more than a friend then._

_No._

_Raoul. You are attracted to him. You can't deny that. _Erik said pointedly.

Raoul, stiff-lipped, replied, _I think I can._

_Deny it? _

_It was momentary and just a knee-jerk reaction to his proximity, _Raoul continued to argue, _and how can I possibly think of him in such a manner? He knew me as a child._

_So?_ Erik pressed.

_It's… pedophilic. _

Erik scoffed, speechless for a second. _You don't even believe that._

_But I can argue it, and that's all that matters. _Raoul stated.

_You aren't four anymore, Raoul. _

_Can we please not talk about this right now?_ _At least wait until I'm fully awake. _Rolling onto his back, Raoul flung his arms out, unraveling the blanket from himself. He looked up at his ceiling and paused in confusion.

_Why am I upside down on my bed?_ Raoul asked, not really expecting Erik to know the answer. He actually expected Erik to ignore his request and continue with their previous conversation; so, he was pleasantly surprised when Erik suggested, _A nightmare?_

Raoul frowned. _I think we would've remembered a nightmare. _At least, he was almost certain he would've remembered a nightmare that managed to make him move so that his head was where his feet should be._ We don't move when we sleep, Erik. This is… unsettling._

Erik agreed but was surprisingly subdued about the whole affair besides parroting, _Truly unsettling._

Shaking his head, Raoul pushed himself up and out of bed. _What do you think we're going to do today?_

_I'm not sure. Do you think we will be free today as well? _Erik managed to ask the question without provoking another argument; it was only because Raoul had gotten used to him referring to the opera ghost as 'we' that he didn't bring up his word choice.

Raoul shrugged, _I hope. He hasn't even been telling me what he's been up to lately. _He pouted, _And you know that isn't very fair. He talks to Philippe __all__ the time._

_Jealous? _Erik asked.

_No, _Raoul was quick to respond. _Just curious. Let's not talk about that either. Breakfast, right?_

_You do realize that you talk about us constantly,_ Erik pointed out,_ and yet you're always telling me __not__ to talk about him. I'm getting mixed signals._

Raoul refused to respond and Erik was quiet the whole trip to the breakfast nook; Raoul could still easily tell that he was smug. Quickly before entering the room, he remarked, _It's just unfair that Philippe is closer to him is all. _

_After all, Erik's only __your__ friend, right?_ Erik scoffed in Raoul's head. _You hold the monopoly on him even while avoiding him at times._

"Good morning, brother," Raoul said a little too loudly while walking to the table. Philippe lowered the paper for a second before returning the greeting with a smile.

_I do not avoid him, _Raoul retorted.

He took a second to take in the scene before him. The breakfast area was small, more intimate than the dining room. The table was rectangular that could comfortably seat six; it was by a large window and was lit by the morning light. Food, an assortment of pastries and fruit, was already on the table with an empty plate waiting for him at a seat next to his brother. Philippe sat at his customary spot at the head of the table while Erik sat directly opposite him; each was reading the newspaper. It had already become their custom to do so since they'd all settled after Erik's return, but Raoul still had to smile.

_Well, you don't treat him very well. _Erik pointed out.

"Good morning, Erik," he said while sitting down.

_I treat him exactly like I treat my brother._ Erik scoffed and Raoul amended that statement, _Well, maybe not exactly like my brother, but close. Don't I?_

Erik folded the newspaper and placed it on the table beside him. He was wearing his mask; something both Philippe and Raoul had yet to be able to dissuade him from doing even though both of them had already seen his face. They'd only agreed to it in the beginning so that Erik could become accustomed to his surroundings and the servants would become accustomed to his presence. However, considering several weeks had already passed, they'd rather expected Erik to show up one morning without the mask.

"Good morning, Raoul," Erik said, not smiling but bowing his head slightly. "How was your rest?" he asked, and Raoul knew he had his entire attention even though Erik was seemingly focused on his breakfast. Erik never ate a bite of the food on his plate until he arrived. Raoul couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious when he'd first realized that, but he did have to admit, it was a little nice.

_Of course he'd wait for you, _Erik retorted.

Raoul ignored him and filled his plate with food. He wondered if he should tell the truth when answering Erik's question. "Actually, it was odd."

Philippe lowered his newspaper completely. "Odd?" He and Erik asked at the same time.

They shared a look before focusing on Raoul again. Philippe never trusted 'odd' when it came to his brother. Odd usually entailed losing large pieces of memory and then finding an opera ghost. Odd entailed being kidnapped by several people and having to chase him across the country. Odd was never good.

Rolling his eyes, Raoul spared Philippe only a glance before looking back at Erik. "I… moved in my sleep."

"You moved?" Erik asked, not quite understanding how that was notable. "Is that uncommon?"

"Raoul doesn't move when he sleeps. Well, he used to," Philippe said, eyes narrowing in memory, "that was, until after…"

"… until after I was kidnapped and returned," Raoul finished, already knowing that Philippe would falter.

"Yes," Philippe cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood, "he used to fall out of bed all the time. For the longest time, our parents thought I didn't like him and gave him those bruises."

Erik grinned, seeing Raoul blush at the anecdote.

"He used to call out my name, too, which didn't help the situation," Philippe continued. He smirked when Raoul glared at him.

Raoul's first word when he'd been thrown in the carriage had been Philippe's name. Erik's grin faltered. He didn't understand why that thought had come to mind. He tried to focus on the present.

Clearing his throat, Raoul tried to end Philippe's tangent, "I'm sure it's nothing important. I slept well otherwise."

"That's good." Erik gladly accepted the continuation of their original conversation. As much as he wanted to hear more of Raoul's childhood, he wanted to do so without Philippe present at first, although he had a feeling he'd be able to hear all the really humorous stories from Raoul's brother.

"And you?" Raoul asked.

"Me?"

"How was your rest? Are you… are you comfortable here?" Raoul asked hesitantly. He generally avoided questions of how Erik was felt about staying at the Chagny estate, not wanting to seem like he was pressuring the older man. Some days he was just afraid that Erik would wake up one day and say to them that he was leaving.

_Which is quite the unfounded fear,_ Erik replied.

_I can't help it if I'm afraid he'll disappear. He doesn't have a reason to… _ Raoul could just sense Erik waiting for him to say the words that he would immediately argue against. So, he changed his statement, _He's used to living without us._ _Blood doesn't tie us together and we've been separated a long time. _

_And yet he still remembered you._ It was Erik's usual argument._ Doesn't that mean anything to you?_

_It's not as though our relationship is normal._

_You don't need to tell __me__ that, _Erik sulked.

Raoul already knew that Erik was getting impatient; he just didn't know why. It was true that he wasn't as comfortable around Erik as he was Philippe, but he thought that was understandable since he'd lived with Philippe his entire life. He barely knew where to begin with Erik now that they'd been reunited for an undetermined length of time. He was already mortified with how he'd greeted him when he'd returned; he was simply grateful that the whole experience hadn't been completely offputting to Erik.

_Offputting is the furthest thing we'd been thinking, _Erik noted.

_I can't believe I hugged him._

_We hugged you back if you recall._

_Well, of course. _Raoul nearly rolled his eyes._ Hugging back is reflex._

Erik laughed loudly. _I highly doubt we have that reflex. _

"Raoul?" Erik tried to get his attention.

Philippe let the newspaper sag a bit so that he could watch their interaction. He gave a soundless sigh before returning to the same paragraph he'd been reading since Raoul had arrived for breakfast.

"Sorry, Erik," Raoul ducked his head, "I was a little distracted. You were saying?"

Erik tried to be gracious about it. He'd been coming to realize in the weeks they'd lived together that there was nothing he could do about losing Raoul's attention at random intervals in the day. It even happened to Philippe – though less than it happened to Erik, he'd noted with no small amount of annoyance. Raoul simply thought about whoever he thought about during those moments, much to Erik's chagrin.

"Well. I appreciate the accommodations that have been provided."

Philippe scoffed behind his newspaper. He didn't need to look over his newspaper to know that Erik was glaring at him.

He'd been keeping an eye on Erik just in case he tried anything with Raoul. Now in hindsight, he almost laughed at the thought. There was _nothing_ to watch. Erik never tried to get Raoul alone and usually waited for Philippe to be in the same room before engaging in any sort of interaction with him. Philippe could almost swear that Erik spent more time with him than with his brother, and when Erik and Raoul _were_ together, they were overly civil. In fact, Philippe had seen Raoul more familiar with complete strangers than he was with Erik.

He'd thought that after everything that had happened maybe things would get better. Admittedly, Raoul seemed well, better than he had been before Erik had come into their lives. It was just that when his brother and Erik were together, Philippe wanted to yell at them to resolve whatever was between them. He couldn't be the only who noticed it. The stagnation was starting to grate on his nerves.

They weren't friends. They weren't more than friends, maybe a little less than friends with the potential to be more, or old friends that were separated for a long time. They had a connection. Period. Philippe understood that. After all, it was that connection that had probably saved Raoul's life on more than once occasion, and while he wasn't pleased with its existence, he wasn't going to wish it away – not that he believed that would work.

He couldn't define what they were to each other, but he was certain that until _they_ defined it, Erik and Raoul would continue their tentative interactions that they'd been doing so far and neither of them would truly be happy. Philippe was tired of Raoul being unhappy – he'd had more than his lifetime's quota of seeing his brother unhappy – and now that Erik was with them, he could only hope for the same happiness for him, too.

"Do you have work today?" Raoul asked, biting back his curiosity and ignoring the urge to ask Erik what it was he did when he left.

Erik's eyes flickered towards Philippe. "No. I was going to spend the day here."

"You're welcome to join us today," Philippe put down the paper. It wasn't as though he was reading.

Raoul couldn't help but smile, excited at the prospect. "What _are_ we doing today, brother?"

"Something relaxing," Philippe replied, "Maybe just a walk on the grounds and a picnic outside. Unless you want to do something else?"

"No," Raoul glanced out the window. He could see a few clouds outside, but nothing that would ruin the beautiful day. "That sounds perfect. Who needs more excitement?" He laughed at his own joke.

Philippe gave him an indulgent smile even as his side gave a sympathetic twinge while Erik scowled at the memory of what had happened.

Seeing the expression, Philippe waved it off, "I need a break from all that. I'm too old for such things."

That set off Raoul into laughter. "You are _not_ an old man, brother." He leaned over and grabbed food off Philippe's plate. "But if you don't eat more, you won't have enough energy to keep up with my youthful energy."

Philippe ruffled his hair affectionately, knowing that it would annoy him. Sure enough, Raoul quickly retreated to fix his hair. Philippe glanced at Erik and saw a look that he could almost call jealousy, but it wasn't quite. Yearning, perhaps? As soon as he'd seen it, Erik had recovered. He'd expected anger of some sort, but Erik had been proving him wrong time and again. Philippe often had to chastise himself for thinking so poorly of him; it was reflex though when concerning Raoul. It wasn't his fault that he was usually right when he considered the worse of the people around Raoul. He already knew he had to adjust his opinion of Erik though.

"A picnic it is then," Philippe repeated. He had been well aware of the fact that if they'd chosen to do something off the estate, Erik would refuse to accompany them. And Philippe was not about to _wait_ for the resolution between them because he'd come to the conclusion that it would take a miracle before Erik or Raoul acted on their own. He was going to make them define what they were to each other so that he could finally relax.

This waiting was giving him undue stress.

o.o.o

After breakfast, they'd returned to their respective rooms to change into more appropriate clothing and to bring whatever they needed for the rest of the day.

They took a leisurely pace walking around the estate. Raoul and Philippe walking close together even though few words were shared while Erik lagged behind them. Raoul kept glancing backwards and any attempt at conversation Philippe tried went unnoticed.

So, once they were far enough from the main building, he just stopped walking before lying upon the grass and declaring, "I believe it is time for a nap."

"A nap?" Raoul looked at him incredulously, "We've just barely woken up. We _just_ finished breakfast."

_I think I love your brother. _Erik randomly declared.

Ignoring the non sequitur, Raoul spared a moment to reply, _I almost thought you'd finally run out of things to say._

_Perish the thought._

"Food makes one sleepy," Philippe responded, shielding his eyes from the sun with his arms.

"You're going to get dirty," Raoul pointed out. "Grass and dirt all over your clothing."

"Which is why I changed into clothes with just that consideration in mind," Philippe spared Raoul a look that said 'I'm not moving.' "Take a seat Raoul. Nap, read, or talk to me. It's your choice. I just want to enjoy this beautiful day with you."

Raoul was about to complain some more when he saw Erik had already taken a seat on the grass behind him. He had a notebook of sorts out and was writing.

_See_, Erik said, _we're even sitting down. You brought a book for a reason, right?_

Raoul sighed and glanced at Erik curiously before giving in and sitting down rather gracelessly. "What would you like to speak about?" he asked Philippe. He grabbed several blades of grass before snapping them off.

Philippe grinned though he kept his eyes closed. "Whatever you see fit. We haven't been able to talk in a while; I just want to hear what you've been doing."

Raoul rolled his eyes but began to talk about his more recent business ventures.

Erik watched the brothers, his notebook laying forgotten on his lap. Raoul sat close to Philippe though he was sitting so that he could see both Philippe and Erik if he just turned his head. Erik knew it was his way of trying to keep him in the conversation. Raoul sat with his legs in front of him, both arms behind him supporting his weight. Philippe was sprawled out on the grass, and true to Raoul's warning had already dirtied his clothing. Erik was certain it was one of the reasons why he could tolerate the Chagny brothers. They were unlike anyone he'd ever met before in his life. Philippe pretended to act childish simply so that his brother would dote on him even though he was the one that often hovered around Raoul protectively. They were busy, yet made the effort to spend time with each other, made the effort to eat breakfast together. They were both relaxed and generous.

Too generous, Erik thought while looking around the estate. He didn't belong in this place. It was obvious to him already, but he was selfish. He knew it already. He was unwilling to leave Raoul again. Yet, at the same time, he was unwilling to get too close. He didn't think he'd be able to control himself. Raoul only looked at him as an old friend, maybe not even that. After that one hug upon his return, Raoul, though civil, hadn't shown any other reaction to his presence.

It was understandable. Erik wasn't expecting anything from him. Maybe he wanted more, maybe he wanted Raoul to feel comfortable around him, but he held those hopes with a fair amount of skepticism. Whatever Raoul wanted, Erik told himself, he would accept. With one exception: Erik refused to let Raoul push him away completely.

Turning his attention back to his notebook, Erik continued his work. His mind had been filled with ideas. Not having to worry about surviving or worrying about Raoul – though it was more like trying to keep Raoul from filling his every thought – gave him time to focus on all the designs and inspiration he had.

So caught up in his work, Erik only realized that Raoul was staring at him when he noted the silence. He looked up to see Raoul giving him a hopeful look. He leaned backwards far enough to see Philippe, who to his estimation had fallen asleep.

"Yes, Raoul?" Erik asked indulgently, straightening again.

Raoul shifted closer to him. He pouted. "Philippe fell asleep."

"I'm sure he was interested in the new bakery you helped open," Erik said, "but he's just tired from working so hard."

"You were listening?" Raoul smiled. He'd been certain that Erik was too busy working to hear what he'd been saying.

"Of course." _Of course._ They replied at the same time. Raoul's smile almost faltered. Almost, but somehow, the fact that they both responded simultaneously made him a little more happy.

Erik decided that Raoul looked too pleased. "I…" He wasn't certain he liked Raoul's full attention on him like this. "I _can _multi-task, Raoul," he tried for flippant but ended up sounding almost derisive. Raoul didn't seem to react poorly though.

In fact, Raoul was too close, close enough to touch, to smell. All Erik had to do was reach out and pull him closer. He had a feeling that if he did, Raoul would only continue to look at him with guileless albeit confused eyes and let him lead him. Erik could already imagine the gentle warmth and soft skin beneath his fingers, the wisps of hair that would brush against the back of his hand. He'd be able to press a gentle kiss on Raoul's lips once more, and Raoul would allow it, only to ask afterwards what he was doing – not accusatorily or angrily though, just confused – while Erik still had his hand upon his cheek.

His grip tightened on his notebook. He'd betrayed Raoul one too many times already though. He refused to do so again, so he forced himself to remain still as Raoul moved even closer.

"I've been meaning to ask," Raoul started, "What have you been doing these past weeks?"

Erik cleared his throat and tried to control his physical reaction to Raoul's proximity. It was a losing battle. "I did not wish to impose upon you."

Raoul interrupted unapologetically, "You'd _never_ be an imposition, Erik. I-_we_ want you here."

Erik bit his tongue to suppress the flood of emotion as well as the errant inappropriate thought at Raoul's statement. "Nevertheless," he steadied his voice, "I was in search of employment because while I do have a large sum of money, I desired to do more." He fought a grin when Raoul nodded encouragingly. He glanced once more behind Raoul to his brother, "Philippe offered me a position as an architect on a project he's been working on."

"So you work with Philippe?" Raoul asked.

_Jealous? _Erik asked smugly.

"No. I work in conjunction with his manservant to communicate with the construction workers." Erik explained. He'd been uncertain of its efficacy when they first started, but Erik had to admit that he was able to keep an eye on the construction, have his wishes heard, and still remain hidden. It was a very effective arrangement.

"Oh," Raoul couldn't help but admit he felt a little better at the thought. "I'll let you keep working then," he said, lying down before Erik could say that he wouldn't mind speaking with him any longer. He was still closer to Erik than Philippe though.

Honestly, Raoul hadn't known what else to say to him. He'd been building up his courage just to ask that one question; besides inquiries on health and business, they rarely spoke to each other. Raoul was too afraid he'd say something stupid or manage to make him angry.

_Coward. _Erik accused, the annoyance clear in his voice. _Just talk to us like you normally would. _

_What's there to say? _Raoul said helplessly,_ Where do we even begin? Another apology, our past, what had happened? I don't know. I really don't. _

_You have to start somewhere. _Erik encouraged, the annoyance completely gone. _Just say whatever comes to mind._

Raoul still hesitated.

_Trust me, _Erik said earnestly. _You do trust me, right?_

"Erik." Raoul rolled to his side, pillowing his head on one arm. His heart was beating erratically. He couldn't believe he was going to do this, but Erik was right. It was time he started talking to him.

Erik glanced down at him before tensing at the sight. Raoul looked too inviting, and it ached not to be able to reach out and touch him. It took him a long moment before he could respond, "Yes?"

"Could you," Raoul worried his bottom lip, "I don't know, could I hear you sing again? I've been waiting a while just to remember you."

Nodding wordlessly, Erik had to turn away a moment to gather himself.

o.o.o.o

End chapter

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: What do you know, I kept the corny title. Was that enough Daw and fluff to offset the angst that's lurking under the surface? This domesticity and false calm can't last forever with Philippe and imaginary!Erik getting so impatient with them. :) Do I sense a team up in the future? (How?) But how did Erik not just ravish Raoul right there at the end?


	2. Restraint

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: Continuation to Imaginary Friends. Erik and Raoul are trying to make things work between them, but can they really just be friends?  
Warning(s): slash  
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul  
Word Count: 4,858

A/N: Sorry this was late. I had to re-read IF just to make sure I don't do anything stupid, and IF's not a quick read. I spent my free time (and parts of my work day) reading it; I still haven't finished.  
Story note: Just a sidenote, the OC's names will probably never change from story to story (you'll see what I mean later). I'm not creative like that and may grow too attached to OCs.

o.o.o.o

More Than Friends  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 02 – Restraint

o.o.o.o

Philippe had closed his eyes and forced his breathing to slow down after Raoul began to speak. He almost felt bad for doing this, but it was as effective a tactic as any other he'd thought of. He just hoped, no prayed, that he wouldn't hear anything that he didn't want to hear. However, when Raoul's chatter finally tapered off and Philippe heard him shift his attention towards Erik, he couldn't help but not care what was said as long as something happened.

It was difficult to remain impassive as they spoke, tempted as he was to open his eyes and see what was happening, but he knew if he allowed himself that luxury, Erik would certainly realize he was awake. That would automatically mean he would treat Raoul differently. Philippe wasn't quite sure what 'normal' could be defined as but from Raoul's recounting of what had happened at the Opera Populaire, the way they were acting now was well out of the norm.

He was startled into losing his train of thought when Erik began to sing. The sound demanded every bit of his attention, and he struggled to keep his eyes closed even when he wanted to confirm that Erik was indeed the person singing. Reluctant to believe it, Philippe was surprised that the cold man who'd dealt with the managers and the Comte could sound this compelling.

It shouldn't have surprised him though. He'd been able to reconcile the fact that the ghost was Erik and the devil's child was Raoul's saviour. It had been a hard-learned lesson but it wasn't so difficult when he'd seen the two mixed together. Those moments had somehow de-villanized the man. Erik's face wasn't so frightening when he was saving his brother. His actions were less vicious when in all truths, Philippe would have done exactly the same to protect Raoul.

Sometimes he wondered if Erik knew how to separate himself from those roles, from those people he'd been. He worried that one day Erik would do something that was more opera ghost than man and of course, Raoul would be hurt whether directly or indirectly.

A part of him, the part that understood the depth of sacrifice Erik had suffered for Raoul's sake, knew his fears were unfounded. He wondered if he should worry about his _own_ safety, even though Erik had shown nothing but deference to him and his staff. Not his entire staff, but surprisingly, the ones who had managed to kidnap him – and that had been a story that amused Philippe to no end now that he had the luxury of being amused. He'd found himself wanting to tease Erik but decided against it until he was certain no one would die from the experience.

His thoughts tapered off when Erik transitioned into another song, one that was all too familiar to Philippe, the one he'd learned for Raoul.

o.o.o

Raoul's breath caught in his throat. He might've been able to stay lying down during the first song that Erik sang. The song was something altogether unfamiliar but just hearing Erik's voice had been enough; Raoul had barely listened to the words. However, the second song, this second one… he pushed himself to a sitting position. Staring wide-eyed at Erik, he never once looked away as he moved.

_This. _Raoul thought to himself more than to Erik,_ This is you._ His eyes closed as a gentle peace seemed to wash over him. Even though this was the same song he heard every night before he fell asleep, it had never truly sounded like this. He'd forgotten how it felt as the sound moved through him, how he could actually _feel_ Erik singing. _I missed this. _And Raoul didn't hesitate when he added. _I missed __you__. _

Erik responded back, _And we missed you._

As calm as he felt, Raoul couldn't deny the dull twinge of pain in his chest that was spreading. _How many years has it been? Why you, Erik?_

_Why me? _Erik replied, not quite following Raoul's train of thought.

_Why couldn't I forget you, even when I __did__ forget you? _Raoul explained, thoroughly distressed all of a sudden. It was a desperate feeling that grabbed him – his mind had brushed the thought of a life that had been ripped away from him at a time when he'd barely understood what was happening. _Why does this feel so right even though I don't understand it? _

Raoul could feel Erik's bemusement cut through his own emotions. It was enough to pull him away from those what-might-have-been's. Erik replied, _Maybe because we're supposed to be here. You know that. _ And Raoul could feel Erik's smile as he added,_ You've known it all your life._

Simply listening to Erik sing, Raoul didn't respond for a long while, trying to memorize the feel of his voice. Looking up at him, their eyes immediately met. He could feel himself blushing at the thought that Erik had been watching him this whole time. He didn't miss a beat in the song.

The urge to move was strong. While Erik was sitting up straight, one leg bent beneath the other, his notebook balancing precariously on it, he was sitting cross-legged, slouched forward. He held his chin in the palm of his hands, elbows propped on his knees. It was unfair for him to have this vantage point when Erik was already taller than him on a normal basis. He felt vulnerable, but he couldn't seem to move. It was as though Erik were staring straight into his thoughts, as though the words of his song were drawing his very soul forth, drawing him ever closer.

_I don't think you'll ever be able to get close enough. _Erik commented.

Ignoring his momentary confusion at Erik's words, Raoul grinned and released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Erik was right on that one count; the once opera ghost belonged with them, with _him_. He couldn't be anything but certain of that fact after everything that had happened. After all, Raoul did believe in destiny, fate, whatever one could call it. Even if he hadn't, he knew that something had been missing from his life ever since he'd been a child. There'd been a dissatisfaction, an emptiness; besides his family, he hadn't cared about anything half as much as he cared for this man beside him.

But after all the years they'd spent apart, he just didn't know, _What is he to me?_

_I have some ideas_, Erik replied, amused.

Too bad Raoul couldn't share that emotion as well. There were moments when he _could_ convince himself that what he'd felt, his physical reaction to Erik, had been fleeting. There were reasons that could explain it away since he'd never actually felt his body respond to someone as it did to Erik: it had been stress or because it had been quite some time since he'd… well, since he'd relieved himself of that type of tension. Mostly, he blamed it on confusion and the pressure he'd been placed under.

Then, there would be those moments when he couldn't rationalize it away. Sometimes a single look was all it took before Raoul wanted to somehow bridge the distance between them, as though across the room, a meter, a centimeter was still too far. Sometimes it wasn't even Erik looking at _him_; it was Raoul looking at _Erik_, and at that moment it physically hurt to be so far from him.

Those times were few and far between though.

When Erik finished his song, Raoul sighed contentedly and with a small grin breathed out, "I like your voice." Realizing he'd repeated the same words he'd said all those years ago, he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "Still. Of course." He shrugged, turning away to look at the grass. "You sing incredibly well. But that's to be expected." Raoul stopped himself from continuing, biting his tongue.

Erik fought the urge to grin back. Instead, only a corner of his lips quirked upwards. With Raoul turned away from him, Erik's eyes followed the smooth skin from his cheek down to that slender neck. He moved his hand to caress that skin before he caught himself, closing his hands into fists at his side. Chastising himself, he knew that he would ruin everything if he gave into such base instinct. Raoul deserved better than that; he deserved whatever he wanted and Erik wasn't going to push him. He just couldn't keep looking at him; it was too tempting. Instead, he looked past Raoul, seeing Philippe – an even better reason why he should keep to himself.

His eyebrow quirked before he turned his attention back on Raoul. "Is that why you remembered me?"

"I hear your voice," Raoul replied after a moment. He still refused to look at Erik, knowing that those green eyes would be completely focused on him. Trying not to squirm under that gaze, he wondered what Erik saw when he looked at him. The four year old who cried and complained all the time? The man who had called him a monster? He added when he realized he had replied so vaguely, "Before I go to sleep, I hear that song." He dared look at Erik as he finished, "I just hadn't known whose voice it had been until I met you."

Erik's eyes narrowed in thought. "That first time we met. In the tunnels."

Raoul nodded. Of course he remembered the first time he'd run into the famed opera ghost.

"My voice reminded you…?" Erik asked.

"Of that lullaby," Raoul quickly filled in. He definitely couldn't say that it reminded him of the voice in his head. That was one topic he hoped to never have to explain.

_Why? You're going to have to eventually._

Erik frowned at seeing his distraction, and Raoul inwardly raged at the voice in his head.

_We apparently don't like having you distracted from our conversations. _Erik laughed at him.

Raoul ducked his head when he couldn't help but frown at the further distraction.

Erik tried to school his features. After all, Raoul's preoccupation wasn't new. He took a deep breath; the only thing he could do was to remain calm.

"You remembered me ever since that moment," Raoul muttered to himself. They'd already established that point. He just marveled at it sometimes. It didn't really explain Erik's actions but it could be used an excuse for why Erik had been rather irritable with him. Raoul hadn't remembered him; he would've been angry had their positions been reversed. However, he also would've tried to explain that they had a past together instead of avoiding him.

"I doubted that you would believe me," Erik answered his unasked question, which wasn't a total lie. He had doubted, but it was more that he'd been resolved to leave Raoul alone. He wondered how that had ever been an option.

Raoul nodded, unwilling to argue that he should have still tried. It faintly hurt that Erik hadn't, that Erik had waited until his life was in danger before he'd been convinced to approach him. It hurt that he'd been so willing to ignore their shared past.

_We didn't ignore that. We just… _

Raoul didn't wait for him to finish. "I doubt I would've believed you as well."

_I'll say. You can't be angry. _Erik retorted,_ You didn't believe it until later even though I was telling you all along._

_It wasn't like you were sure yourself at the time, _Raoul argued. _And I'm not angry. _

_But I was right, wasn't I? We did come back for you every time._

Erik cleared his throat.

Raoul mentally cursed. "Sorry," he quickly said. He couldn't help himself. _Didn't we talk about this already? No comments unless we're alone._ "I…"

Erik had to admit that Raoul looked completely miserable; it didn't erase the annoyance he felt, but he was able to better control himself. Taking mercy on him, he said, "It's alright. You don't have to tell me until you want to."

_What if I never want to? _Raoul wondered.

_Then I'm guessing he'll never know. _Erik said, matter-of-factly. _Oops._

"We never really got to talk about…" Raoul hesitated, "well, everything."

Erik wondered how Raoul would react if he gave into his impulse and reached across to touch him. He wanted to pull Raoul closer; the mental image of holding him close, close enough that Raoul would be forced to sit on his lap or between his legs, close enough that Erik would be able to breathe the same air as Raoul, refused to leave him. He could clearly remember what it felt to hug him, could feel it still. "It has been chaotic," he said distractedly.

"I'll say." Raoul said wryly. 'Chaotic' was quite tame for what they'd been through, first with the Comte and then with Madame Giry.

Their eyes met again and both turned away from what they saw. Erik, growing increasingly agitated with his wayward thoughts and Raoul, from the intensity of his gaze.

It was quiet for long moments before Raoul offered, "So… the beginning? It couldn't hurt, right?"

Erik turned away. He didn't understand why he couldn't control his thoughts when he'd already convinced himself just being near Raoul was enough. He was already becoming greedy. That was dangerous and no matter what he did to curb such thoughts, he simply failed. Busy tamping down on his anger, he was unnecessarily curt when he replied, "You remember everything that happened." As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished to take them back. It wasn't as though he were angry with Raoul, just himself.

Either Raoul didn't notice or expected such a response from him since he didn't react. Instead, he replied, "I think I do."

"You were a kid." Erik focused on keeping his voice steady; however, that wasn't enough for him not to notice the way the sun looked as it shone on Raoul's hair. It wasn't enough for him to not wonder how it would feel to run his fingers through those strands. He was certain if he asked, Raoul wouldn't deny him. He forced out, "It can be hard to remember things that long ago."

"That's true." Raoul's tongue swept across his bottom lip. "I don't remember getting kidnapped."

"That had been my master," Erik supplied quickly, trying to think of the atrocities he'd experienced as a child instead of this moment to distract himself. It was presently unfortunate that those moments were immediately eclipsed with the memory of a younger Raoul. He couldn't help but feel a little more disgusted with himself, knowing that he still wanted Raoul regardless. His only consolation was the fact that this current Raoul was the only one he'd remotely thought of sexually. In truth, it was _little_ consolation when he also knew he couldn't act on the urge.

"Master?" Raoul said the word as though it were foreign. He stretched the muscles in his back before leaning backwards onto his arms. He made a face at the concept.

Erik stated, "He owned me."

Raoul scoffed, though that expression quickly became something more pensive. "People shouldn't be owned."

"Well, I used to be." And Erik wished he hadn't brought the subject up at all when he saw how affected Raoul seemed.

With enviable ease, Raoul reached forward and put his hand on Erik's knee, meeting his eyes intently. "I'm sorry."

"Don't do that." Erik shook his head, barely able to restrain himself.

Raoul pulled his hand away quickly.

Immediately missing the contact, Erik said, "Not that."

"You tensed," Raoul pointed out, keeping his hands to himself.

"I'm just…" Erik tried to think of an excuse, "not used to it. When I said 'don't do that,' I meant be sorry. There's nothing for you to be sorry about." Hearing him apologize actually made Erik uncomfortable. After all his own failings, Erik couldn't stand to think that someone like Raoul, who'd never truly done him any wrong, would think he'd somehow failed him.

_That's what I've been saying this whole time! _Erik cheered. _Thank goodness._

When Raoul looked down to stare intently at the grass he was pulling out of the ground, Erik didn't even have time to restrain himself before he placed his hand atop Raoul's, stilling the motion. Surprised at his own boldness, he waited for Raoul to pull his hand away, but Raoul simply looked up at him completely unbothered by his touch. Erik chastised himself even while he was inwardly pleased with Raoul's reaction, his mind already planning for future physical interactions that he knew Raoul would think nothing of.

His hand faintly shook. He almost expected Raoul to disappear. That's what he'd been waiting for these past weeks, for this illusion, dream to disappear. For it to be reality was unbelievable. Yet, here he was.

Making a conscious effort to focus on their conversation, Raoul used Erik's hand on his to ground himself in the moment instead of losing himself in an argument with his mental companion. Erik's hand was larger than his with faint scars that Raoul had never noticed before. Unlike in the mausoleum, his hand was warm, reassuring. He frowned when he thought of how their time together had been sorely reduced because he hadn't kept his promise. "But I didn't come back. I _remember _that we promised each other and I didn't come back for you."

Erik slid his hand up to grab Raoul's wrist, tugging him closer. Raoul didn't struggle against him, simply scooted closer so that their knees were now touching. Erik could feel his heart speed up. He wanted to touch more of Raoul but contented himself with keeping his hold on Raoul's wrist. "How could you have come back?"

Raoul shrugged, already quite used to that argument. "I should've found a way. _You_ would've."

That one statement was like a physical blow. Erik quickly released Raoul's wrist and moved slightly away from him. He'd been doing it again; all he ever did was betray Raoul, betray his trust and innocence. It didn't matter if his touch was insignificant to Raoul. It meant something to him, and that made it inappropriate. Erik was taking advantage of Raoul… again.

Raoul didn't react to the sudden distance between them, and Erik knew he'd have to pay more attention to his actions. He said gruffly though vehemently, "It's not your fault. It's _never_ been your fault."

Raoul nodded even though he still felt the contrary. He just didn't want to argue with Erik. If he was anything like the one in his mind, they'd never hear the end of it.

_Because I'm right, _Erik quipped.

Raoul quickly responded. _You're not._

"And…" Erik started, still battling the annoyance both with himself and with Raoul for being so oblivious. He knew he shouldn't push his luck, but he couldn't help but ask, "Are you even glad I found my way back?"

"What?" Raoul asked incredulously, "I thought I already told you."

"No, Raoul." Erik cut him off. It was too late to take back the question and he really needed to know this answer. He needed to know that Raoul still wanted him here even though he'd never leave, because distance was becoming the only clear way that he could protect Raoul from his own intentions. He _wanted _Raoul to want him. "Not just staying in your home or having your brother help me find employment. Not that. I meant around _you_ because this has to be… strange." Seeing that Raoul was still about to argue, Erik realized he needed to forego the euphemisms and he nearly spat out, "You're uncomfortable around me."

"No, I'm not," Raoul immediately replied defensively.

_Yes, you are_. Erik retorted.

"You are," Erik said a little more calmly. "You avoid me."

"Well," Raoul shot back, "It's not like you're looking for me either."

Erik was about to say the contrary, but Raoul was right. "Okay. That's true. I simply did not wish to make you more uncomfortable."

"I'm not the one uncomfortable." Raoul pointed at Erik's knee. "You're the one that flinches away from me."

_You're becoming quite defensive, Raoul. _Erik said. _Perhaps it would be best to calm down before continuing._

"I told you. I'm just not used to it," Erik was getting becoming just as defensive. This was not how he'd meant to have this conversation and Raoul was being quite unreasonable.

_Why are you two yelling? _Erik asked.

"So, you're saying you don't mind," Raoul challenged, clearly expecting him to back down. "When you so obviously do."

_I don't even know what kind of argument this is. _

"I'm just saying that it'd confirm that you don't mind my presence."

_What's the difficulty?_

"What? So you _want_ me to touch you?" Raoul retorted.

_He wants you to touch him. _

Erik pointed out, "You've always been tactile."

_You want to touch him_.

He continued, "More than anyone else I know, Raoul." He _had_ been watching. It had been all he could do in his life and the person he compared everyone else to, their behaviour, their expressions, laughter and every movement of their bodies had always been compared to Raoul. He'd seen Christine, Meg, and half those ballerinas grow up. He'd seen them as children and knew that while they sought out hugs and physical presence they were also loud, bratty, and couldn't sit still. While he'd always known that making such a comparison was unreasonable since he'd spent so little time with Raoul, he hadn't been able to help himself. Even now though, Raoul so freely touched other people, on the shoulder, arm, back. It hadn't even mattered what they were talking about.

_I don't see a problem._

They stared at each other, and Raoul wondered if they would come to blows like they had on the balcony of the Opera Populaire. The argument then had been just as asinine. Raoul realized with an uneasy laugh that once again, the voice in his head was right about these matters.

"You're right," he admitted. "You're absolutely right."

Erik let out a harsh breath. He didn't know why he allowed Raoul's own responses to carry him away like that. Admittedly, it was easier being angry than it was being restrained; that was certain. He hardly wanted to live with Raoul at a constant state of anger just to combat against his growing urge for physical contact though. For now however, it was an easy way to interact with Raoul without fear of noticing unnecessary details – like how Raoul's face would slightly redden in anger or how his emotions became so much easier to read or the way his brows furrowed and his breath came quicker. Erik nearly groaned. He had to stop doing this to himself.

Raoul looked away from Erik just to say. _You're quite persistent. _

_Is that your way of calling me a pest? _

_Maybe. Just let me think without interruptions for several moments, please. _

Surprisingly, Erik was silent.

Raoul said aloud, "Philippe says that all the time. And I understand, maybe…"

"Vicomte!" A voice called across the lawn. Raoul turned his attention towards her, not finishing his sentence; Erik watched him for a few moments before turning to glare at the young woman.

Philippe nearly groaned. He was going to fire the person who'd interrupted them. They'd been making some sort of progress, at least addressing one of his main concerns. Erik and Raoul had been avoiding each other. He was pleased that they'd been on the cusp of finding some resolution, even though he had been worried for a while there that he'd have to separate them.

A maid arrived with a blanket and a basket full of food. Raoul and Erik were quiet as they watched the maid laid the blanket on the grass near them and place the food appropriately. Erik pointedly focused on anything but Raoul, trying to get his thoughts in order.

When she left, Erik didn't spare a second before he stood up. "I'll wake up your brother." He wasn't quite certain he wanted to know what Raoul was going to say when they'd been interrupted, but he'd lost hope that it was anything remotely promising every second that had passed in silence.

Before Erik could walk away, Raoul grabbed Erik's pant leg. He looked up at him with wide eyes, "I'll try my best to treat you accordingly."

Erik nodded mutely not quite sure he could hope.

Raoul patted Erik's leg once before moving toward the food. He crawled the short distance before dropping onto his stomach. Blood rushed downwards and Erik had to bite his tongue to focus on the pain instead of his sudden desire. Turning around stiffly, Erik squatted beside Philippe. He poked his shoulder roughly.

"Did you enjoy our conversation?" He asked. As much as Philippe looked asleep, Erik had become suspicious earlier. He was beginning to suspect that way this outing had transpired wasn't a coincidence.

When Philippe still feigned sleep, Erik poked him harder, glad to have an outlet for his frustration. "Stop pretending. It's insulting to you and me."

Philippe's eyes fluttered open. He looked at him innocently. "What conversation?"

"What are you trying at?" Erik demanded.

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Philippe didn't bother to continue the ruse. He said pointedly, "I'm trying to make something happen."

Erik parroted in disbelief, "Make something happen?"

"You two are hopeless by yourselves."

That was it. Erik wasn't used to other people meddling in his business. In fact, people who did usually ended up dead, and Erik suddenly wished he _could_ hurt Philippe somehow. "What?" He whispered angrily, "Would you like me to _bed_ your brother?"

Philippe froze, eyes widening a fraction before they narrowed to glare at Erik. He pushed himself onto his feet, immediately crowding Erik. He was very near having a violent outburst himself. Erik had stood as well, ready to confront Philippe.

"Philippe? Erik?" Raoul called, confused by their sudden movement.

It was a second before Philippe backed down, taking a small step back so as to not upset his brother. He maintained their tense eye contact as he responded, "We're just talking business for a second."

"It's your day off," Raoul reminded him, fond exasperation evident.

"Just a moment, please." Philippe sounded convincingly calm even while his eyes promised a cold death. Erik was vaguely impressed with such control. Raoul had definitely not learned that from him. He could see why Philippe was successful as a Comte.

Raoul grumbled but went back to going through the food.

Satisfied that Raoul wasn't watching them any longer, Philippe focused entirely on Erik. His voice was a mere whisper, yet managed to convey his threat clearly, "If you treat Raoul as a conquest of some sort, if you hurt him, I won't hesitate to kill you. Painfully. Slowly. And rather joyfully since I failed to have the opportunity with the Comte de Montmartre."

Some of the anger actually left Erik to make room for disgust. He was nothing like the Comte de Montmartre, having fooled and used Raoul like he was insignificant. His instinct rebelled against the fact that he wasn't immediately eliminating the threat Philippe posed, and as it were, Erik continued to stare him down though he kept in his place lest he do something unforgivable in Raoul's eyes.

Philippe continued, and his tone of voice seemed incongruous to the words he spoke. "I want whatever makes him happy. He deserves it, and though you might not believe it, I want you to be happy, too. But if that means you'll be friends for the rest of your lives, then you'll be _friends_. If he wants anything more, it isn't my business."

He smiled at Erik brightly, a fake smile that was as good as any Erik had ever seen. The smile was in place as he finished with a less than friendly pat on his shoulder. "If you do anything Raoul doesn't want, there is no force on heaven or on earth, no begging from you or him that will stop me from castrating then killing you. I'll find a way to keep him happy if you can't. Do we understand each other?"

It took all of Erik's control to nod curtly. A part of him knew he shouldn't push Raoul's brother, but Philippe had to understand there was little he could do to Erik that had any real effect. Erik might not be able to kill him because he'd certainly lose Raoul in doing so, but Philippe could not continue to believe that he had any control over Erik's actions.

"Now stop looking so morose so that we can join my brother."

Erik watched Philippe as he walked towards Raoul, completely at ease as though he hadn't just threatened to kill Erik. He was dangerous. More dangerous than Erik had initially expected and extremely protective of his brother, but Erik had already known the latter attribute. Walking towards the brothers, Erik rather expected Philippe to exclude him from their conversation and the rest of the afternoon. Instead, Philippe acted as though nothing had happened at all.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 02

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Don't mess with Philippe. He will call you on your shit.

This chapter was surprisingly difficult to write. I think I hate sequels. I'm a little disappointed with this chapter. Let's get to the good stuff already.


	3. Repercussions

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: Continuation to Imaginary Friends. Erik and Raoul are trying to make things work between them, but can they really just be friends?  
Warning(s): slash   
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul  
Word Count: 6,903

A/N: I'm finally done with Reluctantly Willing and Garnier Hospital, so here we go with this one.  
Story note: This is the chapter we learn that Erik really should not mess with Philippe and where some massive plot happens. (Finally.)

o.o.o.o

More Than Friends  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 03 - Repercussions

o.o.o.o

Philippe had been dressing, still half asleep from having stayed up late in order to finish all the letters he'd just had sent that morning. Erik, going over the drafts for the construction site, had been up for several hours already.

At the all-too-familiar cry, each dropped what they had been doing, hastily rushing out of their rooms and down the hall. Both reached Raoul's door at the same time and grabbed for the doorknob. Philippe was quicker, Erik's hand landing atop his, and though for a single moment, they shared a look of mutual challenge, Erik quickly backed away far enough so that Philippe could open the door. He managed to slip in before the elder Chagny, much to Philippe's dismay.

The bed was in disarray: pillows were strewn across and blankets were taut lines running diagonally across the bed as they tangled in Raoul's legs. As they entered, they were able to catch a glimpse of Raoul just as he rolled off the bed. His landing was loud enough that they both flinched at the sound before running to check on him.

Raoul woke with a grimace, moving slowly. He couldn't quite understand why he was in pain. Rubbing his shoulder, the one on which he'd landed, he blinked rapidly. He groaned. _What happened?_

There were a few seconds of silence before Erik replied, _I don't know. _

Confused, it took Raoul himself a second before asking, _Why did you pause?_

"Raoul?" Philippe started, trying to get his brother's attention. He'd feared the worse, hearing Raoul's yell. It was sad to think that his first concern was that his younger brother had somehow been kidnapped again; it had been months already since their dealings with the Comte de Montmartre. When Philippe thought of it though, it had been more than a decade and he'd reacted the same way when he'd first gotten that letter inaccurately stating that Raoul had been kidnapped. He doubted there would ever be a time when he wouldn't worry.

The blankets were still wrapped tightly around Raoul's legs and his nightshirt had ridden up. From the corner of his eye, Philippe saw Erik quickly avert his eyes at the sight. He wasn't quite sure whether he should be relieved or just exasperated. They were both adults and male. There was no reason to overreact. Though Philippe couldn't help but grin to think that the feared opera ghost was… bashful.

Erik had a fleeting thought of Raoul intentionally doing this to him to make him suffer. He certainly understood that the nights were mild, but sleeping in only a nightshirt was… he could barely think past that particular thought because that article of clothing was currently barely doing anything to cover Raoul, the blankets having pulled it up to the point that was dangerously close to revealing whether or not the young man opted to wear anything beneath said nightshirt.

The Vicomte was as good as naked – and Erik not only had to stifle a groan but also had to look away as that thought brought a mental image that was detrimental to his resolve. It was too early in the morning to have such thoughts, considering his nights were filled with dreams of a similar subject. He spared a second glance not quite unable to resist doing so, but when he noticed Philippe's grin at his expense, he forced himself to not care that the object of his obsessions was currently nearly naked. In front of him. On the floor. Looking for all the world mussed and begging to be ravished.

Erik considered leaving the room completely. But, that would mean Philippe would have won; Erik tried not to question when he'd begun to compare his relationship with Raoul to the one the brothers shared, mostly because he was certain he'd been doing so since the very beginning when Raoul was child and because he was just as certain that Philippe was currently winning.

"Erik?" Raoul finally realized that he wasn't alone in his room, "Philippe?" He looked around as though he could find some visual reason to explain his situation. "Why am I on the floor?"

Philippe only rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed feeling his legs a little shaky from relief. Erik crossed his arms and waited for Raoul to explain, eyes pointedly focused on a spot over Raoul's left shoulder.

Giving them both a once over, Raoul asked, "What's wrong with your clothes, brother?"

Erik snickered and made the mistake of glancing at Raoul again. He wished Raoul would fix himself.

Philippe shot him a glare before looking down at his clothing and sighing. His shirt was only half buttoned, partially tucked into the trousers he'd just barely remembered to fasten before running out into the hallway. He was fairly certain his jacket was on the floor in his room and he hadn't even been able to put on any shoes. He glanced at Erik and scowled. The man was perfectly dressed. It didn't look like he'd rushed to get here at all. But seeing the colour on the other man's cheeks was enough to make him grin again.

He shrugged at his brother's question, explaining, "We heard you yell."

"Yell?" Raoul repeated slowly.

Forgetting the other man's mocking, Erik glanced over at Philippe questioningly. He already knew he wasn't doing a very good job at keeping his focus on the problem at hand – Raoul half-naked was a state that Erik realized he couldn't optimally function in –, but Raoul's sleeping habits suddenly changing had obviously been a concern of Philippe's and he'd gleaned that sleeping habits were extremely indicative of Raoul's well-being. Although Philippe had tried to make light of this change last morning, Erik could easily see the consideration he'd been giving this new development.

It took only the slightest head tilt on Philippe's part and they moved forward in unison to help Raoul to his feet. Philippe was left to help untangle the blankets from Raoul's legs and adjust his clothing since Erik still refused to let his gaze venture any longer than a glance further than that spot over Raoul's shoulder. In fact, once Raoul was on his feet, Erik took several deliberate steps away, having made sure his touch did not linger any longer than necessary. He could, however, finally look at Raoul a little easier now that he was properly dressed.

"Yes," Philippe realized he'd apparently been designated as the speaker. "You yelled. Quite loudly, too," he added remembering the sound with distaste. He had to admit though that Raoul hadn't sounded alarmed. The noise had simply been so sudden and jarring that his immediate reaction had been to worry.

"Was I yelling something in particular?" Raoul asked. _Yelling? _He mused. _That's almost worrisome._

"No. Just a yell." Philippe took hold of Raoul's arm and began looking for any bruising.

Erik looked at them with something close to envy – he was jealous of their easy touches and affection but not at the price of being Raoul's brother. He knew that their interactions had only come about through being siblings, through sharing their lives together for so long. Erik tried not to think of all the years Raoul and he could have shared; he tried and failed.

Philippe was just moving upwards to his shoulder when Raoul finally had enough. He shook his head at Philippe's tendency to be so protective of him before tugging his arm away. Philippe allowed him to do so with a small frown.

"I'm fine, brother." Raoul rotated his shoulder, barely managing to hide a slight wince.

_That really showed him. _Erik commented with a laugh.

Raoul added a little forcefully, "Really. I must've had a nightmare or something."

Unconvinced, Philippe asked directly, "_Did_ you have a nightmare?"

"Not exactly," Raoul gave a tentative smile and a shrug, glad when his shoulder didn't hurt as much. "At least, I don't remember having one."

_Maybe you're simply sleeping like you were meant to all along. _Erik suggested. _Remember, you used to kick and talk in your sleep as a child._

Raoul said doubtfully. _They didn't believe that excuse the last time I told them that, and __I'm__ even beginning to doubt its veracity. _

Erik simply responded. _It's not an excuse if we don't have any other idea as to why it's occurring. It truly could be something as innocuous as finally sleeping the way we're supposed to. A change in sleep habits need not be so sinister._

It was a valid point. "Maybe this is normal."

"_Normal_." Erik finally spoke unable to contain his disbelief. He still had a slight problem maintaining eye contact though.

Philippe also scoffed openly at the suggestion. He scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary, something to explain why his younger brother was sleeping so fitfully. Although he was glad that Raoul was no longer sleepwalking, it still worried him. He could see nothing out of the ordinary… until his gaze fell upon Erik. He sighed quietly to himself, wondering why he hadn't realized it sooner.

"I'm highly doubtful that this is normal," he added blithely, "but as long as you're not too injured…" He let the sentence hang before standing up and making a show of fussing with his shirt buttons. He grinned with feigned sheepishness at both Erik and Raoul, "I sorely need to resume dressing myself." He was halfway to the door when he paused. "I'll see you in breakfast. There's something important I would like to discuss with both of you." He left without checking to see what Erik would do now that he'd left the room.

_You should do something nice for your brother, _Erik commented.

_Because I woke him up? _Raoul asked, already knowing that wasn't what he was referring to, but unable to think of anything else.

A dramatic sigh was his only response.

Erik glared at Philippe's retreating form and at the door once he was gone. He was ready to make his own excuses in order to leave but he didn't want to seem like he was running away.

Raoul realized belatedly that he was now alone in his bedroom with Erik and for some reason, his heart began to beat a little faster. His stomach felt uneasy all of a sudden. Looking away from the older man, he started tossing pillows and blankets back onto his bed. "Sorry," he blurted out, unable to stand the silence any longer.

_Another apology? _Erik asked, but added. _At least it's warranted this time._

Erik turned from staring at the door. "Sorry?"

"Yes," Raoul glanced at him before quickly averting his eyes in embarrassment. "For waking you." Their eyes met at Raoul's next glance up and he couldn't breathe for that long moment.

"I was awake already," Erik replied, looking away. He forced the errant thought of 'this is impossible' out of his head even though he knew it to be true. It was impossible to remain delegated as merely a friend, not when it took every ounce of self-restraint to not close the distance between them and force Raoul to accept him as something more, surely as a friend, as a confidant, but more as a lover, as his everything.

Raoul tried to stifle the sudden urge to yawn but couldn't. He stretched, arms reaching above his head as he yawned, and Erik found himself taking a step towards Raoul before realizing what he was doing.

He took several steps back just as quickly. Swallowing with some effort, Erik cleared his throat. "I'll leave you to dress." He quickly fled the room not caring if he was indeed running away.

Raoul stood there hand raised, poised to stop him from leaving. He remembered yesterday's conversation, but he simply couldn't think of anything to say. He didn't quite understand why he wanted him to stay at this particular moment in the first place.

_Maybe you simply wanted to speak with him. _Erik suggested.

_We live together. _Raoul retorted._ I can speak with him any time I want._

Erik pointedly remarked, _And this would be the time we note that you __haven't__ been speaking to him very much._

_He looked like he was quite busy._ Raoul deflected.

Erik scoffed, loudly. _Of course. He's busy at this hour of the morning, and his sudden departure has nothing to do with you. _

Sighing, Raoul frowned. _What are you going on about now, Erik?_

Raoul could just feel his amusement. _You're driving us mad. _Erik managed to say.

_How?_

_With what you were doing. _Realizing that Raoul was simply not following, he said, _Yawning._

_Yawning? _Raoul mentally railed. _I can't yawn around him? It's not that rude._

_I didn't say anything about being rude._

Raoul refused to reply, rather displeased with how this morning was going. Erik liked to do that too often, be vague, and Raoul simply didn't feel like deciphering his words right now.

He dressed quickly, not wanting to keep either Philippe or Erik from their work for too long, considering his rather rude awakening had taken up unnecessary time already. He rushed down the stairs and had turned to head towards the breakfast nook when Philippe called him from the sitting room. Raoul changed directions, slightly confused.

"We can't even have breakfast first," he commented as he entered the room.

Philippe, whose back was turned towards him, glanced over his shoulder before pointing to the various trays of food on the coffee table.

"Oh." He gave a small wave to Erik who sat across the coffee table facing him. Erik gave a curt nod. Something was different with his attitude in that short time they'd been apart, but Raoul couldn't quite put his finger on what that was. Passing Philippe, he reached over his shoulder, draping himself over his brother, before grabbing a fruit from his plate. He retreated when he felt his brother reaching for him.

"Stop stealing my food," Philippe mock complained. He was smiling though.

Raoul smirked at him and moved just out of his reach. "But food tastes so much better when it's someone else's."

Philippe rolled his eyes at his brother's antics.

Raoul glanced at Erik, suddenly mindful of how he was acting. He didn't want to appear so childish and he couldn't quite imagine himself stealing food from Erik's plate. He glanced downwards before abruptly changing the subject, "Why are we eating here?" He grabbed a plate.

"The others are busy preparing," Erik answered, giving Philippe a pointed look as he spoke.

Raoul glanced between him and Philippe. "For what?" He prompted, ending their impromptu staring match.

"We're having a gathering." Philippe smirked at Erik for just a moment before turning his attention back to Raoul with a smile.

_That doesn't sound promising. _Erik commented. _But a very interesting tactic. _

"A party?" Too distracted in his own thoughts, Raoul missed the look they'd shared. "Why do we need a party?" He asked, frowning. "I'd rather prefer if we didn't have one."

"My colleagues are becoming impatient to find out what had happened with the opera house, and they've waited quite long already," Philippe explained frankly, seemingly eager at the thought of a party, "This is a good opportunity for us to show that we have nothing to hide."

_And…? _Erik prompted.

_And what?_ Raoul replied.

"And I do believe it's time for you to find a respectable young woman to court," Philippe finished.

Raoul spluttered, nearly choking on his food, "I-I'm fine, brother. Truly."

_He wants me to find a fiancé? _Raoul barely kept from saying aloud.

_Well, you did have one previously already. _Erik joked. _It shouldn't be too difficult this time around._

_Don't mock me. _Raoul retorted. The thought of finding a suitable match for him truly hadn't crossed his mind. When would he have had the time to think about such a triviality when things with Erik had been so frantic?

_And now that he's safe and living with you? _Erik asked, suddenly serious. _You have time to think about all those pretty young ladies now._

_Well, I just haven't_. Raoul realized he was getting defensive. _I've been trying to make things right between Erik and me first._

_So, we're more important. _Erik stated smugly.

Without a moment's hesitation, he replied vehemently, _Of course. _He added before Erik could feel too smug. _He's family. _

"We're having this party, Raoul," Philippe said in _the _voice, the one that meant Raoul would never be able to dissuade him from this decision. "I expect you to be your charming self."

"I absolutely despise these parties," Raoul said more petulantly than he meant to. "More so when we're the ones hosting them." He fought the temptation to cross his arms, knowing that it would only make him look childish. "I don't need to look for a lady to court."

"It's about time _we_ host a party and _you_ find a nice young lady to become Vicomtess," Philippe replied, eating his breakfast calmly, as though they weren't currently arguing.

Raoul guessed they weren't really arguing since there was no chance he'd change his brother's mind. He glanced at Erik who looked just as displeased with this situation as he was. "What about Erik?" He asked suddenly. He had been so caught up in his own worries that he'd forgotten that bringing people to the estate would be so much worse for Erik than it would be for him.

Philippe grinned, looking up from his food to glance at the still masked man. "He's free to join."

Raoul looked between them again as they stared. When Erik didn't say anything, he spoke for him. "How do you expect that? They'll know who he is right away."

"Maskless." The one word seemed to linger for a long moment.

"What?" Raoul exclaimed and Erik echoed more subdued though just as incredulous.

"The ghost was known to have a mask." Philippe shrugged, as though it was obvious. "Remove the mask and there is no ghost."

"_He_ was also known to have been deformed," Erik retorted finally, openly glaring at Philippe now. There was no point in hiding his displeasure at what Philippe was doing; he was just pleased to note that Raoul was just as displeased. The Comte was simply lucky that Raoul had come into the room when he did or else he would have tried to 'convince' Philippe to reconsider.

"But Raoul's dear friend from the navy has come to visit." Philippe shrugged, completely unconcerned with their reaction.

"A friend from _where_?" Raoul parroted.

"The one who was badly injured saving your life," Philippe supplied, gaze steadily on Erik.

"But… Philippe," Raoul shook his head, placing his plate on a side table, food completely forgotten, "that is a poor story that no one will believe."

"And they'll prefer to believe that he could be the opera ghost?" Philippe ignored the fact that Raoul nodded at his rhetorical question. "The rumours were never anything more than rumours. His very existence has ceased to be a concern now that the opera house has been burned."

Raoul shook his head. "That's unfair. This is his home too and…"

"And he doesn't have to leave, but hosting these gatherings are an important part of our title," Philippe said reasonably.

"B-but," Raoul floundered, knowing that Philippe was right. Not having anything else to argue, he restated. "I stand by my decision that we do not need this celebration right this moment."

"It's going to occur." Philippe stated firmly, not willing to argue about it anymore, "I've already sent out the letters."

"When?" Raoul asked incredulously.

"I was quite busy this past evening."

"So I see," Erik narrowed his eyes. He hadn't been certain of Philippe's intentions at first when he had been told about the party, but now he knew.

"There will be a masque." Philippe pointed out, pretending to be helpful with Erik's dilemma.

Perking up, Raoul suggested, "Why not have every night be a masque, then?"

"That's a bit much, don't you think?"

"It's alright, Raoul," Erik stopped another argument from starting. They'd get nowhere with it. He'd known there would be repercussions to what he'd said to Philippe. No man could resist retaliation, but this was going too far.

"End of discussion then, Raoul. I expect you to be on your best behaviour. I'm off now," Philippe said, standing. Erik's eyes followed him. "I'll be visiting the construction site. Erik," he said with a challenging grin, "would you like to accompany me?"

Not breaking their eye contact, Erik tossed his napkin on the table, standing up, the chair's front legs lifting up from the grip of his hands on the armrests. The chair thudded back to the floor. "I'd appreciate the company," he said tersely.

Philippe patted Raoul on the shoulder. "It's for your own good. You're getting to be that age." Erik purposely brushed passed him. Philippe added distractedly, "You want to start your own family, don't you?"

He didn't wait for answer, moving to follow Erik out. "We'll talk about this more later if you want to," he added before leaving.

_I don't see what's wrong with the current family I have_, Raoul mentally groused, but at the same time, Philippe made sense. He was getting older and the Chagny name would have to be carried on. His brother seemed to be a perpetual bachelor and Raoul, well, he'd always planned on meeting a beautiful and caring lady one day and marrying her. It was expected of him after all.

_I don't see why you insist on following your peers._ Erik said.

_It's not about following my peers. _Raoul replied. _It's about making sure the Chagny name continues._

_That's not entirely important either, and since when did __you__ dream of marrying and having children? _Erik asked.

Raoul glanced around the empty room before sighing. Picking up his plate of food, he decided to at least finish his breakfast. _Maybe I've never actively dreamt or hoped for that, but I'd rather expected it to happen._

Erik asserted, _What's expected is for you to be happy in life._

_And why won't I be happy if I have a family? _Raoul couldn't understand why Erik was so against the prospect of meeting someone and starting a life together with her.

_You already have a family. _Erik said petulantly. _Unless you've already forgotten._

_I meant a wife and you know that._

_Your brother's happy and he doesn't have a wife._

_Yes, but he's always so busy. He also keeps women company enough. _Raoul skirted around saying it plainly. _I don't see what's wrong with wanting a family. Maybe having children._

_And what about me?_ Erik finally asked.

_What about you?_

He prompted. _You will have a wife, and then what?_

_Wait. _Raoul once again stopped eating. _Are you referring to Erik or you?_

_Both of us._

_Well, you'll probably decide to stay and make my wife question my fidelity as much as Christine used to and Erik will still live with us._

_As what? _

_As… _Raoul realized that it would be awkward for Erik if he married and had children… or maybe it wouldn't be awkward. He doubted that though. _Well, he could tutor my children. _Raoul suggested but still couldn't quite see Erik as simply being a tutor. An uncle perhaps? He winced at the mental image of his children running to 'Uncle Erik.' It didn't seem right.

Erik was more. So much more, but Raoul still couldn't quite define what that meant. What if Erik decided he wanted to leave though? If Erik left the Chagny estate, who knew if he would stay in Paris, but even if he did stay within the city limits, Raoul just _couldn't_ let him leave; that wasn't even an option he would consider.

_Then what is your solution? _Erik simplified. _A wife or us._

_He won't want to leave us or… _Raoul couldn't even begin to imagine trying to explain who Erik was to his wife. What if the woman he chose didn't like Erik or treated him poorly or was too afraid of him? There were so many questions it made Raoul's mind reel. He shook his head and refused to believe it could be that complicated. _I'll find a way._

Erik scoffed before studiously ignoring him.

o.o.o

Erik waited until they were in the carriage and on their way to the site before hissing out, "What do you think you're doing?"

Perfectly poised, legs crossed and hands on his knee, Philippe met his eyes. "I'm doing what I think is best for my brother."

Erik reminded himself why he couldn't kill Philippe. For Raoul. Through clenched teeth, he said, "I thought you were going to give us time."

"And I thought you just wanted to bed him." Philippe shot back.

Erik wasn't about to take back what he'd said. It wasn't as though he'd meant that he'd treat Raoul as a conquest; Philippe had to know that and he wasn't about to apologize. "This will not end well."

"For whom? You or my brother?"

Erik stifled a frustrated yell, his hands clenching into fists. He'd expected something, but not this. He'd clearly underestimated Philippe, had underestimated the sting of what he'd said.

"You have a week." Philippe commented, turning his attention to the passing scenery. He thought back to another carriage ride he'd taken with Erik, what felt like years ago. He'd asked the man his intentions towards his brother then and it was true he didn't believe Erik only thought to bed his brother. He simply would not tolerate such insolence when it came to his brother's well-being and Erik being so stubborn was doing none of them favours. They'd had months to resolve their issues and now because of both their mulishness, Raoul was sleeping fitfully – Philippe was certain the two had a connection.

"A week?" Erik echoed, less confrontational than before. The urge to physically harm Philippe was still present, but a part of him actually praised the Comte for this scheme. If their positions had been reversed, he would have done something similar.

"I set the date a little more than a week from today for the true festivities." Philippe explained, "They'll begin to come a week from today and after that, well, I should hope that Raoul has come to realize his true feelings regarding your relationship by that time."

Erik nodded tensely.

o.o.o

Raoul was preoccupied the whole day mostly because Erik still refused to speak with him and he rather missed the random comments he so often made. Seeing as he was being wholly unproductive, he decided to take a walk around the estate in order to clear his mind.

The conversation they'd had about marriage had certainly been the cause of his current silence and Raoul was just as unsettled to think that he couldn't reconcile the idea of marriage and Erik. There was no way he could explain to his potential wife who Erik was without fearing that she'd go to the authorities. He didn't want to lie to her. That was not the best way to start any relationship. Honesty was the only thing that would make a relationship work, he was sure of it. But, he still worried. How would she react to Erik? Would she be like Christine? And that was different worry entirely. Would he have reason to worry if she fell in love with Erik or his voice? He could ask him not to sing in front of her.

Raoul shook his head at his own absurdity.

"Raoul," a whispered voice called out.

For a moment Raoul thought that Erik was actually speaking to him again. But when he heard the groaned, _What is she doing here?_ he looked around.

He was at the edge of his estate, and nearing the fence where bushes covered much of the fence, he could see an area that thinned enough so that he could see through.

"Christine?" Raoul moved forward so that he was grabbing the bars. He was conflicted as to what to feel with her there. She had been a dear friend but after everything that had happened between them, he wasn't so sure what they were now. It hadn't been Christine's fault Madame Giry had kidnapped him, although she had been a part of it. They'd all thought they'd been helping him though.

All he knew was that Philippe would have a fit if he knew she was here. He mentally calculated; Philippe would be gone for a few more hours if anything. But Erik, he almost panicked, Erik always had a variable schedule. He never knew when he would arrive back home.

Christine tentatively put her hands atop his. He looked at their joined hands and couldn't help but want to hug her. She looked disheveled, her clothes not quite as fashionable as it had once been. They were older more used; yet, she looked the stronger for it. She also looked resolved to be here.

He'd always been sorry that he'd had to lie to her; lying to the Girys hadn't weighed on his conscience as much as lying to Christine had. He truly was sorry, especially now that he knew Christine and Erik had nothing between them. It was a foolish reaction but he almost wished that she _could _have Erik, that she could have her angel of music because he'd seen her change after discovering that the opera ghost and her angel of music were one in the same. At the time, he'd been so focused in his own situation that he hadn't been able to see anyone but Philippe and Erik, but he could remember the way she looked at him when they'd been trying to convince him Erik was dead. It hadn't been sorrow for the loss of her angel. He didn't know what it had been, but not sadness.

"What are you doing here?" He whispered fiercely, looking around to see if anyone had seen them. No one was in sight, but he was almost tempted to simply walk away so that she wouldn't stay longer.

"I needed to check on you, Raoul." She said, earnestly. She clutched at his hands, seeing he was about to flee.

"I'm well as you can see." Raoul looked around once more before giving in. This was Christine and though their parting had been rather undesirable, she was still a close friend to him. "How are you?"

"Staying with Madame Giry and Meg. They…" she seemed frustrated as though this were a discussion she'd had numerous times already, "they don't know I'm here. They don't understand."

"Well," Raoul couldn't help but point out, "you shouldn't be here. I'm sure they told you similarly."

"That's not what I meant." She pulled away from the fence and gestured jerkily. "I wanted, no needed, to check on you and ask you a question."

"A question," Raoul said skeptically.

_Tell her to leave. _Erik insisted.

_Now you're speaking to me? _Raoul asked before saying aloud. "Alright. If that's what it takes to put you at ease. You know Philippe. He doesn't make idle threats."

Christine nodded. She remembered Philippe's expression as he warned them about being near his estate. She couldn't help herself though; she'd tried to forget everything, but the _opera ghost _– she nearly scoffed thinking about how she'd once called him Angel– had been a large part of her life. What had happened those last few days before Philippe took Raoul back were the only things she could think of. "You _wanted_ to go with the ghost."

Raoul shrugged. That much had been obvious.

"Why?"

Raoul didn't know how to answer that, how much he should tell her.

_Don't tell her anything. _Erik retorted. _She shouldn't even be here. You shouldn't be talking to her. Tell her to leave._

When he didn't answer, she replied, quiet but fervent. "He's… he's a monster, Raoul. All my life, I thought he was my angel. An _angel!_" Raoul realized that some of that anger was actually directed at herself. Her voice was growing increasingly louder. She ignored his attempts to tell her to speak softly. "And I believed him. I would have given him anything and the good Lord knows what he would have done with me considering how easily he tried to kill us all. He's better off dead, Raoul." Raoul was surprised to see that she actually meant it. There was no doubt in her mind that her angel, Erik deserved to die.

She continued, "He's a deceiver and, and all that trust and hope I put in him. I think… I think I loved him even, wanted so much from him," she finished softly, a little dazed, as though she hadn't expected to say any of that, as though that was the first time that those particular confessions had been spoken aloud. She shook her head and her eyes cleared a bit, focusing so intensely on Raoul that he was taken aback. "You don't deserve that, Raoul." She added quickly, "No one deserves to be betrayed so deeply by someone they love."

Raoul reached through the bars and pulled her closer when he realized that she'd probably _never_ spoken those words aloud or even allowed herself to think them so plainly. She'd _loved _Erik. Raoul held onto her tighter. The hug was awkward and the bars were making any real comfort impossible, but he couldn't just let her stand there looking so lost and damaged. Not when he was the reason for her pain, not when she was so changed by the experience. How could he ever make it up to her?

She pulled away slightly, still holding onto his arms. "You were that person from his past, weren't you?" She didn't wait for confirmation as she continued, "I don't know if he's really dead, Raoul. I really don't since he _is_ a monster, and I don't think you can kill a ghost. I just want you to be careful and to know just what kind of man he is if he does come back. Never believe a word that he says."

"I," Raoul started slowly, fighting the impulse to tell Christine that she was wrong. Erik was nothing like what she'd described. He wanted to tell her that Erik hadn't planned to kill them, that it had all been part of his ruse so that they could escape.

_But he did want to. _Erik interjected.

_How do you know that? _Raoul replied.

Erik enumerated, _He killed his master, your first kidnapper. He killed your other kidnappers without any hesitation. Remember the catwalks. _

Raoul flinched.

_And he would have killed the Comte for ordering you to be kidnapped had the fire not occurred. Moreover, I'm almost certain he would have killed the Giry women and Christine as well for having kidnapped you._

_But, _Raoul hesitated, _it's Christine._

_And you're Raoul and I'm Erik. Are we done with introductions?_

_Don't be difficult, _Raoul groused. _He'd lived years just for her. How could he…?_

Erik replied, _Don't be naïve. He might have survived for that long, but he only lives for you._

Raoul would have liked to scoff at such a romantic notion, but found himself blushing instead. Realizing that Christine was just looking at him expectantly, he quickly covered his distraction, "It's difficult to explain. I hadn't realized until the end who the ghost was, barely remembered the person I'd known in the past. And… I'd just thought that he'd been the reason the Comte de Montmartre had replaced me." It wasn't quite a lie. "I thought he was to blame for what had happened at the Opera Populaire and I simply couldn't let him… well, I wanted to know. No, I needed to know and confront him. He'd been different and the person now…" Raoul struggled to think up a proper reason. Borrowing words from his brother he finally concluded, "My honour was at stake."

"Your honour?"

"Yes. I needed to know," Raoul asserted, trying to be vague yet assuage her curiosity. He waited uncertainly.

After a moment, Christine sighed with a small smile. "Men and their honour. There's no honour in death."

Raoul smirked ruefully. "That's where we differ in opinion."

Looking around worriedly, Christine reached through the gates to hug him once more. "I hope you're well and that you're able to fix the problems with your fiancé."

"There's no fiancé," Raoul immediately replied, so used to the argument that he hadn't been able to stop himself.

She paused and nodded her head. "She's the unfortunate one." She looked at him for several long moments in consideration before starting out of her thoughts, realizing she'd forgotten to mention something, "There was a bigger reason for why I'd come. There's something odd with everything. Truly, with the ghost and the Comte…" She was cut off when they heard footsteps approaching. She looked around wildly before giving him a tremulous smile and squeezing his arm one last time before running.

Raoul stood there, conflicted and confused. He had caused Christine so much pain.

_That's not your fault. _Erik said exasperatedly._ Not everything is your fault._

_I took Erik away from her._

_He chose to leave her, remember. _Erik repeated the words he knew he'd said dozens of times already. _She believed him to be an angel. What could have come of it?_

_I-I don't know. _Raoul was still just standing by the fence when the gardener arrived.

o.o.o

Raoul decided it best to not mention Christine's visit to either Philippe or Erik. The outcome of that conversation would not turn out well; of that, he was certain. Philippe would probably visit Madame Giry's house and threaten them some more and Erik would… Raoul frowned; Erik would probably carry out that threat. He sighed.

Instead, he avoided them all afternoon, locking himself in his study as he mentally reviewed Christine's and his conversation. Christine had looked well enough though she was hardly the same girl he'd known while at the Opera Populaire. She had been trying to tell him something, but Raoul resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't know what unless he visited her. Doing so without his brother or Philippe discovering was near impossible though. He rarely left the estate because of the constant surveillance.

He actually had no idea how Madame Giry, Meg, and Christine were surviving considering the opera house had shut down and it had been several months already. Whatever funds they had would surely be depleted. He couldn't very well just give them money; Philippe would certainly notice that and more than likely, Madame Giry would simply refuse to accept it. He paused and smirked; a plan was quickly forming though.

The time he did spend with Erik and Philippe during and after dinner was spent focusing all his attention on how their days had proceeded. Conversation was rather tense and with good reason. Raoul may have gotten over the shock of learning about the party they were going to host, but it was obvious Erik was still a little angry. Philippe was only doing what he thought best and Raoul couldn't very well hold that against him. Even Erik seemed less confrontational about his displeasure, choosing instead to generally ignore Philippe and speak with Raoul.

But when he was saying his final good nights visiting Philippe in his bedroom, Raoul noticed that he was preoccupied. They usually spent several minutes simply speaking to each other before retiring for bed. Raoul never visited his brother with the intention of doing so, but they usually always had something more to talk about. Tonight it was different though; Philippe had claimed fatigue and Raoul found himself leaving the room after a rather abrupt 'good night.'

He walked down the hallway to return to his room, slowly wondering at Philippe's demeanor.

Passing Erik's doorway, he paused. They'd said good night earlier already when they all parted ways for the evening.

_You say good night twice to Philippe. _Erik reasoned. _And you did say you would treat him more like Philippe._

Raoul did agree with him but he admitted, _I don't know what to say. _

Erik paused deliberately before suggesting, _Good night?_

_Funny. _Raoul even spared a sarcastic laugh aloud at that._ I know that. _

_Just go in._

Raoul raised his hand, hesitating. After several, _Simply knock, Raoul _from Erik, he finally did so.

"Enter," Erik called out.

Raoul reached for the door handle and saw his hand actually shake. _I can't do it. _

_Just turn the knob._

"Just wishing you a good night, Erik," Raoul called out instead before rushing to his own room, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Good night," Erik replied softly, having heard Raoul hurry down the hallway already.

Erik stared at the door. He knew he shouldn't have stood up, but he'd heard Raoul's footsteps outside his room and he'd rather hoped Raoul would at least peak into the room. He'd seen the blonde spend at times ten minutes saying good night to Philippe. He didn't know what he was expecting – he did sometimes imagine Raoul coming into his room to do more than say good night, but those were admittedly more fantasy than expectation –, but at least he'd gotten a second good night. It was progress.

He sighed, thinking to himself that he had a week to make more progress than he thought possible.

o.o.o.o

End chapter 03

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Could so much have happened in one chapter!?!? Don't expect a chapter like this again. Way too much going on but the players are all falling in line. Christine's so bitter (I feel bad for her). And of course Raoul feels guilty (when does he not).

What's going to happen now? Better question: what can Erik do in a week? Work miracles?


	4. It's a Start

Fandom: Phantom of the Opera  
Disclaimer: Please don't sue. I don't own *insert fandom name from above*... All I own is an overactive imagination.  
Summary: Continuation to Imaginary Friends. Erik and Raoul are trying to make things work between them, but can they really just be friends?  
Warning(s): slash  
Pairing(s): ErikRaoul  
Word Count: 6,714

A/N: Late again. I tried to do an entire week of Erik trying to make their relationship go to the next level in one chapter and failed. Failed quite badly actually.

I don't know why, but after uploading, it seems that I'm losing 'spaces' between some words; so, while I do in fact edit and use spellcheck, I don't know why uploading it would cause these problems. D:

Story note: Let's all cross our fingers for Erik's success but then again, if he does succeed, this will be one very short sequel on how they got together. Uh, so, let's hope he… fails?

o.o.o.o

More Than Friends  
By: Lucifer Rosemaunt

Chapter 04 – It's a Start

o.o.o.o

Good night? It had been far from it.

Erik had been unable to sleep. It wasn't as though it were an impossibility. Life at the Chagny estate was truly a change; the days were exhausting in a way that could actually be described as satisfying – though the truly satisfying part was coming home every day to Raoul, even taking into account the current awkwardness between them. The construction site was always busy and the news of the party had stressed an already stressful situation. Erik simply couldn't convince himself that sleep was the most suitable use of the scant hours between now and the party. Every second he spent away from Raoul was wasted.

He should be doing something, anything, but he couldn't very well sneak into Raoul's room. Well, he _could_, but to what end? He would only manage to scare him away by doing any of the numerous mental images that came to mind.

He had approached the door without realizing it. He _wouldn't_ leave the room. Taking a deep breath, he leaned his head against the door, letting it cool his suddenly elevated temperature. Control. He had to control himself, but that control was already frayed, unraveling quite steadily. The only thing keeping him away was the fact that he refused to jeopardize his future, _their_ future; they were just beginning to make progress. It wasn't even that this family, _Raoul_, was all he had left; it was that it was the only thing that mattered.

Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the nightstand where he'd left some blueprints he'd been reviewing earlier. If sleep was going to remain elusive, he might as well be productive. He sat down and tried to review the sheet, but he did not truly see any of the lines or words. Placing that down, he picked up his notebook. He could distract himself by writing or drawing or… he couldn't. The book was flung across the room without a second thought. He cringed as it connected with the wall before falling to the floor, realizing that he shouldn't be making noise so late in the evening. Everyone had retired for the night. Philippe was probably sleeping so well right now, he thought angrily.

Standing up abruptly, he began to pace. How could he possibly reconcile the conflicting desires of wanting to allow Raoul to decide the depth of their relationship and making Raoul see they should be _everything_ to each other? In one week? The only answer, Erik had determined, was to find a way to make it so that Raoul _would_ want him, and he couldn't quite believe such a thing would occur without some guidance.

So, the next question would be, how could he do so without frightening off the younger man? He wasn't sure.

Somehow, they'd been closer when Raoul didn't remember their past. Erik admitted it might have had something to do with the fact that he'd also been a little more forward; he almost wished they could at least go back to that if anything. However, it was different now. He had more to lose, and as such, he couldn't simply lure Raoul into his room and convince him there was so much more they could do together than talk.

Erik nearly laughed at the pure absurdity of the thought. There were so many aspects that were wrong with it. Although he _wanted_ to do something with Raoul, Erik admittedly didn't know exactly where to begin; he'd only ever managed to steal a single kiss from someone – and, Raoul had been unconscious at the time. He was also working under the assumption that Raoul was somehow more innocent than him and _hadn't _had sexual encounters in the past, which was necessary for his peace of mind but was rather unlikely considering Raoul's looks and standing in society.

More importantly, he would never do that to Raoul. Despite all the things he thought himself capable of, he wasn't capable of such boldfaced deceit. He paused, jerking to a halt in his pacing. He _had _taken advantage of Raoul though and had been doing so time and time again with every touch tainted with so much want that it made Erik's head swim and with every thought that dragged his image of Raoul further down into obscenity. The only saving grace was the fact that he _hadn't _physically done anything beyond that first violation, but he couldn't forget he was capable of such acts. If he fell into complacency, he might just slip.

Taking another deep breath, Erik tried to calm himself. After several similar breaths, he was no less agitated than before. So, he began to pace again. At least in doing so, he was able to work off the excess nervous energy that was quickly becoming commonplace. He counted the steps from one end of his room to the other, counted the window panes, and let his eyes wander across the various furniture which decorated his room. _His. _He belonged here. This already familiar room, this house, and more importantly, Raoul was home.

Reaching up, he touched the cold porcelain that was his mask. Normally, he took it off in the evening, but that was only to sleep. And even then, the first few weeks he'd slept with it on. It had been for naught of course; no one entered his room without first knocking. He had been given his privacy, for which he was glad. He'd been given a sanctuary of sorts and yet, curiously enough, he still found himself out of it more often than not.

As such, the mask was for everyone's benefit; he told himself that, but he wasn't sure how much he believed it anymore. This mask may have brought him to Raoul several times already, but he knew it was only serving to keep them apart now. It wasn't as though he didn't know both Chagny's rather expected him to appear one day without it. They'd already seen what he truly looked like, but it did nothing to remove the anxiety. He couldn't bear it if he were able to finally scare Raoul away permanently. A mask was no hardship to keep on.

But a part of him wanted to know. Would Raoul look upon him with pity – because Erik didn't think the blonde had it in him to shy away with disgust – or would he smile tremulously and pull him into a desperate hug? Raoul wasn't that young anymore though. He wouldn't cry and try to kiss away the pain; they were beyond that sort of affection. However, he _had_ received a similar homecoming after that debacle with the Giry's in a city he would prefer never to set foot in again. It couldn't be that farfetched to hope for such a reaction. If that's what it took for Raoul to hug or kiss him, Erik would actually gladly do so.

Walking towards his dresser, he reached up to remove the mask. It was barely a fraction away from his face when he put it back on. No. Not right now. Later. He could do that later. He would deal with one difficulty at a time.

Staring down at the partially open dresser, he opened it further and fingered the expensive material that was his clothing. He'd only brought his compositions, designs, and the as of yet untitled and unfinished opera he was composing. The rest had been part of his old life, one that he'd abandoned, had discarded without a shred of regret.

He'd been given a chance to start again, to have a second chance at being a better person, one who would never be forced to separate from Raoul. How could he have hesitated? The surprising thing was that it hadn't been too difficult. Once away from the Opera Populaire, he didn't have to be the ghost. He didn't have to struggle so hard to maintain his livelihood through threatening notes and broken set pieces. Although some habits remained, he only had to be present in Raoul's life. That was proving difficult enough by itself that he didn't have time to think of anything else.

Regardless, any thought of missing his old life was pointless since he'd missed Raoul for even longer than that; _everything_ paled in comparison to Raoul. So, while he sometimes wished to Punjab lasso someone, particularly Philippe lately, he didn't think he'd ever go through with the act.

And, Philippe was altogether another conundrum. He couldn't understand why Raoul's own brother was so intent on pushing him to action when the elder Chagny knew he wanted _more_ with Raoul. Erik couldn't help but wonder if it was simply Philippe's misplaced trust that he would respect Raoul's wishes, that he was stronger than he actually was. Then again, a part of him wondered if this party was specifically so that he would never have any more of a chance with Raoul.

It might be too much to expect Philippe to be understanding enough to allow his brother such an abhorrent thing as to love not only a man but one such as him. Erik wasn't blind; there was a chance that Raoul would find his affection morally objectionable like much of society did, but that was one problem Erik didn't want to even consider – Raoul didn't need any other reason to be repelled by him.

It was all so frustrating to not be able to have his way immediately. He realized rather belatedly that he'd almost been spoiled at the opera house; even when they didn't comply, all he had to do was break set pieces or backdrops before that was remedied. He knew such tactics wouldn't work here but didn't know what else he could do.

All he knew was that Philippe was pushing so much that the outcome could hardly be expected to be anything but disastrous.

o.o.o

It was predawn when Erik found himself in front of Raoul's door. He'd tried to stay away, but his patience was running thin and his thoughts had turned time and time again to the same point, he needed to see Raoul. It was commendable that he'd even managed to stay away for so long.

There had been many false starts to get from his own bedroom to Raoul's. He'd been warring with himself, trying to figure out whether this were truly an effort at speaking with Raoul about their relationship or simply his unfulfilled desires spurring him to find a way to be in Raoul's room and garner some kind of physical affection. As he stood by the door, he acknowledged that it was probably a mixture of both. He could only hope that the former overpowered any traitorous action he might do if spurred on by the latter.

He knocked softly, still wholly unprepared for what might occur when Raoul opened the door. Dozens of scenarios had run through his mind and the more scenarios he thought, the more absurd they became until he had been forced to stop. The worry gnawed at his stomach, and being bombarded with so many unfamiliar emotions combined with the helplessness he was thrown into when faced with dealing with Raoul made him want to hurt someone. It had already frustrated him to the point where the lone mahogany chair in his room had been dismantled and destroyed. By his bare hands. It had been easier than expected, and now the urge to destroy something and yell and possibly act before he thought through the consequences had been relegated to the deep recesses of his mind.

There was little chance that Erik would hurt Raoul. Intentionally. But he felt calmer now, albeit not any better equipped to deal with the uncertainty that Raoul seemed to inspire in him.

As he stood there, straining to hear any noise from the other side of the door, the minutes somehow dragged ever slower towards dawn, yet sped along further still and faster towards the end of the week. A muffled "enter" was the only response.

Entering slowly, Erik peeked into the room. It was good to see Raoul was at least still on the bed despite the fact that he was sleeping ninety degrees clockwise than what was normal.

"Raoul?" Erik whispered.

Moaning, Raoul burrowed deeper into his blankets, hugging the pillow towards himself, blonde hair strewn across his face. He looked as though he hadn't woken at all, much less enough to respond to his knock.

Erik faltered once more. He could still leave and forget that he'd ever been there. There were other ways to go about this. Raoul certainly wouldn't remember his visit. Now that he thought about it, Raoul had looked preoccupied the night before and eager to retire for the night; maybe he needed his rest. It would be more considerate to leave. But, he'd come this far and Raoul _had _said to enter, so his presence couldn't be construed as an intrusion, and Erik was reaching the end of his patience at being so cautious and hesitant around him. It grated on his nerves even with the justification that it had been necessary. It wasn't necessary anymore though.

Before he'd even truly made up his mind, he was already walking closer to the bed. He watched the rise and fall of each of Raoul's breaths, drawn ever closer. The only sound in the room was their breathing. Sitting at the very edge of the bed by Raoul's head, he brushed Raoul's hair aside so that he could see his face. His hand lingered, watching the strands as they fell through his fingers.

Raoul murmured and moved at the touch, towards him. _Erik. _He hmm'd in pleasure. _Let me sleep a little more._

_That wasn't me. _

Erik pulled quickly away when Raoul shifted, but before he could stand, Raoul opened his eyes, squinting in his general direction, and he froze.

_Why is Erik in our room? _"Erik?" he muttered, voice rough from sleep. He rubbed his eyes, and Erik could only stare. There was no suspicion, no fear, just confusion. Raoul trusted him too implicitly; Erik didn't deserve any of it. How could he even begin to want to force him into anything?

_Maybe something happened? _Erik suggested.

Raoul looked around in sleep-laden alarm, struggling to wake up faster. He didn't raise his voice, even as he asked, "Is something wrong?" He moved to sit up, but Erik placed his hand on Raoul's shoulder to coax him back down. Raoul was so warm to his touch. He made sure his hand didn't linger this time though.

"No," Erik replied softly, as though anything louder would somehow ruin the still cast of sleep that hung over them, "Everything's alright."

There was something extraordinary about this moment, a softness as the sun had yet to rise and the morning dew was just building; the sharp edges of their harsh reality dulled to this quiet moment between them.

_Then why…? _Raoul asked even as he laid back down, trying to nestle in the warmth of his previous position; it was never quite the same though after having moved. He shifted closer to the extra warmth that Erik provided instead.

Erik stood up however, and Raoul pouted, craning his neck to look at him. Seeing Erik actually look uncertain, Raoul asked, "What are you doing here? Can I help?"

"I knocked and you said enter," he said, not quite answering because he didn't know what he should say. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be alone with Raoul in a room, at least not a room with a bed.

_I did? _Raoul looked at him dubiously.

_Apparently._

"Oh." Raoul glanced down in thought and just realized how he was sleeping. _Again?_

_Well, at least this is better than waking up from hitting the floor. _Erik tried to be optimistic.

Raoul sighed.

Erik tensed, his jaw clenching. So early in the morning and Raoul was already _distracted_; and Erik only allowed himself to think of it as distraction. He didn't want to think of some unknown person that Raoul thought of so constantly. Putting a body or face to the person, imaginary as it might be, would only serve to anger him further. There was no fiancé, certainly, but there was someone already. "I should have known it's too early. I'll let you sleep some more."

_Don't let him leave. _Erik urged. _Remember your promise. This is the perfect opportunity to speak._

Before Erik could even think to move, Raoul stopped him. "Don't." And though the request was hushed, Erik stopped. Raoul reluctantly moved away from the fading warm spot to lie properly on the bed. He couldn't suppress a shiver as he settled. "Stay. You came for a reason, right?" He looked at Erik pleadingly when he saw him still hesitate.

Erik _had_ come for a reason, but it didn't matter anymore. He knew that there was no guarantee that Raoul would find someone at the party. He hadn't actually thought himself that fortunate, doubted that Raoul would reject every beautiful woman that caught his eye, but he'd still hoped. There had still been a chance. He simply had forgotten to take into account the fact that Raoul probably already had someone he wanted. Perhaps he'd never even had a chance despite Philippe's meddling.

But if Raoul could be happy with someone else, then Erik would be happy for him.

Except… Erik knew he wasn't that charitable. He would be miserable if Raoul found a wife, and in turn, he knew he'd want to make their lives miserable, or at least _hers_. He already wanted to know who the mysterious person Raoul so constantly thought about was and erase their mere existence. If there were an actual person in front of him, someone Erik could touch, could harm, he knew he'd only manage to hurt Raoul in the end.

He so desperately wanted to leave, not certain he could stand to see Raoul think of someone else when it was just them. He could still leave with some dignity and perhaps formulate a different plan, one that included maybe simply kidnapping Raoul. He sighed and made the mistake of meeting Raoul's eyes. While he managed to look away, it mattered little with his resolve already gone. How could he refuse when Raoul was looking at him like that? Moving away from the bed, he reluctantly went to sit in the chair by the window.

"What are you…?" Raoul asked.

Erik supplied. _He's sitting across the room. _

With a groan, Raoul pushed himself up to lean against the headboard, motioning for Erik to sit closer. "You're making this very difficult for so early in the morning." He slumped further against the headboard, trying to find a comfortable position.

Erik watched him, trying to discern what Raoul wanted him to do. There weren't many places to sit in the room. He haltingly took a step toward him, admitting honestly, "I do not mean to."

"Simply sit on the bed." Raoul patted the spot beside him. He was still mostly asleep and the bed was cold now, something he sought to remedy with Erik's help. This _was_ the perfect time to speak with him, and now, he simply refused to do so so far apart.

Erik wasn't certain he'd heard correctly. There was no questioning it though with that hand motion: Raoul had invited him to his bed. If the urge to run hadn't been present before, it would have arisen at this very moment. But Raoul was looking at him so expectantly again, and he wondered belatedly when he'd been so tamed. He took a shaky breath and sat down at the very edge of the bed, legs still dangling over the edge. He looked over his shoulder at Raoul with barely concealed hope.

Raoul gave him a pointed look along with an exaggerated sigh. Erik threw out a prayer to anyone who was listening for strength as he raised his legs so that he was now sitting against the headboard like Raoul. Somehow he managed to do so without touching the blonde, a feat in itself when it seemed as though Raoul wanted to close the distance.

Pleased with their proximity now and the impending warming of the bed, Raoul pulled the blanket and tossed part of it over Erik's legs before trying to concentrate on the conversation they were supposed to have instead of the sleep that was still so temptingly near. Remembering Erik's resolve to speak with him when he first entered, Raoul started, "So, are we commiserating?"

Erik had watched Raoul moving with something akin to dread. He mentally questioned all the powers that be _why_. Why were they testing his restraint? It wasn't possible. Raoul was too warm, too… _real_ and Erik couldn't do it. His heart was pounding and his hands twitched with the need to simply touch. The younger man had even begun to lean against his arm. It couldn't have been intentional because Raoul's eyes were struggling to stay open, but he desperately wished that it were. He was hard pressed to remember why he _couldn't_ simply take Raoul now. Raoul was his hope, his life. Raoul was his. It wouldn't be very difficult at all to take what he wanted. Raoul would eventually learn to love him back. It was all so simple. Take and possess so that there would be no doubt in anyone's mind that Raoul was his, no party, no _distraction_, nothing.

The thoughts beat against his control and the blood rushing past his ears made it difficult to hear anything, but while the words took several moments to filter through, Raoul's tone had come clearly across. Conspiratorial, easy camaraderie Erik was certain they didn't have just yet and he was suddenly reminded of pinky swears and the only promise he'd ever sworn to keep. A promise made with the body he wanted to violate.

Steeling himself against the inner turmoil that still raged, he thought of kidnappers and Raoul almost falling off the catwalk. He focused on the stillness of the room, of Raoul's trust, of the pain he'd already caused with his thoughtlessness. He focused on the mirror across the room and just how lucky he was to be invited to stay here.

"What?"

Raoul glanced up at Erik, who refused to tear his gaze away from some spot across the room. "Didn't you want to commiserate about the party?" he asked.

_It's like you're trying to make this difficult for him_, Erik commented, amused.

"Oh," Erik shook his head and wished he hadn't when it seemed to make Raoul lean more heavily on him. "I didn't come to commiserate."

Raoul stifled a yawn.

_Good way to show interest in the conversation_, Erik retorted in his head.

Frowning, Raoul responded heatedly, _I'm trying. _

"Why don't you lie back down?" The second the words left his mouth, Erik came to the distressing realization that if Raoul did in fact lie down, his head would be near a certain part of his anatomy that was more interested in the suggestion than it should be. It would be so easy to hold him down; Raoul's motions were still sluggish. He shook the thought from his mind, desperately wanting to retract the suggestion.

Raoul asked after a pregnant moment where Erik hoped the answer would be no. "You don't think it rude?" He quickly added, "Because I _do_ want to speak with you. I'm just a little tired."

"It's," Erik swallowed with some effort, "alright." It really wasn't. "I woke you too early."

Raoul slid down, resting on his side to face Erik. One glance down and Erik's head snapped up again, trying to control his breathing because despite the improbability of such a feat, he could swear he could feel Raoul's breath against his leg. Erik helped him pull the blanket higher, before stiffly clasping his hands together on his lap. His nails were digging into the back of his hands. Raoul let out a pleased moan and Erik turned his eyes upward. He didn't have this much restraint. He truly didn't.

Try as he might, trying to control the thunderous pounding of his heart couldn't distract him from Raoul's proximity, the way he curled towards him, and the content smile as he settled down. It was as though for Raoul, this situation was not only comfortable but normal for them. He looked at the distance from his hand to Raoul's head; it wouldn't take much to touch him. He tried to shift away.

Moving faster than Erik thought possible, Raoul grabbed his pants at his thigh. Erik immediately tensed beneath his hand and froze.

_What was that? _Erik asked with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

Raoul didn't move, not quite sure if he could at the moment. _I do not know. _As he'd settled beside Erik, he hadn't been able to help but think of the carriage they'd both been locked in at the carnival. When the memories had first come back, he hadn't been able to think of anything besides that for a while. It probably hadn't helped that all he'd done was dissect the memories when waiting for Erik to return home. He had come to the realization that in such a short time, they'd made a connection, one that Raoul had been unable to duplicate in the past fifteen years with anyone else. And that thought actually frightened him because he didn't think another fifteen years would make any difference. There would never be anyone else; Erik was simply that important. They had to find a way to make this work, but just as much as he hoped for that to occur, he was as certain that Erik would disappear again.

_Which is unfounded_. Erik added. _Why do you even think that after everything we've been through?_

Raoul couldn't respond. He didn't know how to put into words the fear. In fact, he didn't want to explain how all it had taken was Erik's slight movement and the wayward thought of "Erik's leaving" before he'd been overwhelmed by fifteen years of desperation, loneliness, and loss concentrated in a single moment that had spurred him into motion, that the feeling was still there simmering beneath the surface thankfully less intense but more incessant than ever before.

His voice was shaky when he asked, "Don't leave, okay?"

"Never," Erik responded immediately, not caring that he didn't know why Raoul had requested that of him: if he meant not to leave this morning or not to leave ever. In the end, it didn't matter because he wasn't going to leave. He wanted to ask if he was alright, but after he'd responded, Raoul had relaxed despite the fact he had yet to remove his hand. Erik tried to similarly relax and was hard pressed to do so.

They fell silent. Raoul's breathing eventually evened out and his hand was simply lax on his thigh. Erik kept himself completely still, tempted to touch him, but afraid that doing so would startle him enough to pull away. He doubted Raoul would even object though, and that was part of the problem. He couldn't help but wonder again, how far could he push without Raoul understanding just how significant each touch was?

Whispering, he almost hoped Raoul was asleep so that he wouldn't answer. "Do you want to find a wife?" He left off the 'if you haven't already someone in mind' part of the question, trying to simply allude to it.

Raoul _had_ been drifting off to sleep. Now that Erik wasn't trying to leave, Raoul found that being near him was calming, relaxing in a way he hadn't been able to achieve when alone in his bed, probably because he didn't have to worry that he wouldn't be there in the morning. At his question though, Raoul was drawn to wakefulness. He frowned, thinking back to his earlier conversation with Erik about the very same subject.

He noted, _You two are acting more and more alike each day. _He ignored his retort of _What do you expect? I am he._ Raoul answered honestly, "I don't know. Not with most of those people that brother's inviting at least."

"Is there anyone else?" Erik prompted.

Raoul snorted, shifting a little closer to the heat Erik provided. Letting his eyes drift shut, he answered, "I'm not close to anyone other than the people I've grown up with: Philippe, my sisters, and many of the servants here."

_Well, I'd say you're close to me. You __were__ momentarily engaged to me. _Erik answered cheekily. _Although that would actually count as the __second__ time you tried to marry me._

Erik frowned at the answer. He knew Raoul would never intentionally lie to him. In fact, the lies were obvious now, but it could be simply be that Raoul didn't understand his query. "There's no one else? Besides… family?"

"There's you." Raoul looked up at him with a grin, hand slightly tensing on his leg.

Now, Erik was _certain_ that Raoul didn't understand that his question had been about prospects, so he tried to calm his heart and tell it to react differently. He was failing rather spectacularly.

_And I only proposed to you once, _Raoul pointed out.

_What?_

_You were my fiancé, _Raoul explained, _But Erik was… _He actually couldn't finish that thought. _I was young. And, I only proposed once to you._

_Fine_, Erik conceded, though he added. _We are the same person though, but if you're pointing out differences, you have to admit that you're only close to me. _

Fighting not to roll his eyes, Raoul responded, _But Erik, _he distinguished quickly, _the one in my bed, is rather important to me, too, and that counts._

It took a moment before he received a response. _I wish you could hear what you say sometimes. _At Raoul's confusion, he simply continued, _But you aren't exactly friends, are you? _

It always came back to that question. Raoul wasn't quite sure what they were, and he knew there was only one way to remedy that.

"What are we?" He asked more plainly than Erik would have ever dared.

Erik paused in his mental ambivalence to Raoul's response to his last question. If only he knew the answer to that, if only he could just tell Raoul what he wanted them to be, what they should be, then life would be considerably easier. As it were, he didn't know. "What do you want us to be?" Erik asked instead, hoping that Raoul answered favourably, that he would give a hint at how hard a trial Erik had before him.

_We all apparently want to know this answer. _

Raoul closed his eyes, having a difficult time trying to gather his thoughts. _I presume 'I don't know' would be an inappropriate response._

_And you would be correct because he's asking what you __want__._

_I want a lot of things. _Raoul said._ I want us to be happy, to be able to talk to each other like this, and to spend our days together. I want everything to be alright._

Erik pointed out. _You want a lot of things that don't actually answer his question. _

Raoul knew he was right.

_Again._

He had been trying harder to come up with an answer to this very question since their talk about marriage and Erik's place in his life, and even more since his conversation with Christine. It was a pressing issue that they'd tried to fix already, but it wasn't enough to agree to not be awkward with him. From what he could determine, it came down to one thing. "Close," he said so suddenly that Erik started, "I want us to be close."

Erik let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. It wasn't quite what he wanted to hear but it _was_ vague enough to give him hope. "Then," he nodded to himself. It was a start, a better start than he'd been expected actually, "we'll be as close as you want." He even dared to finally place a hand atop Raoul's own. When Raoul didn't pull away from him, he relaxed and said, "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

Raoul was going to protest; he'd been awake long enough to wonder if he could fall asleep again, but didn't bother to tell Erik. He wanted to take this opportunity to revel in his presence. Shortly after though, he fell asleep with Erik watching over him.

o.o.o

When Raoul woke up a few hours later, he was alone in his bed. Looking around the room, he didn't see anything out of place. The spot beside him in the bed wasn't especially warm, nothing that could confirm or deny the possibility that someone had been there.

_Was that just a dream? _He asked.

_A dream? _Erik replied. _I doubt it._ _You've had some interesting dreams, but I think this one was real._

_Well, _Raoul looked around the room pointedly. _He's not here._

Erik hesitated. _That's true, but that doesn't mean he __wasn't__ here earlier._

Raoul didn't mention the obvious fact that he'd explicitly asked Erik to stay, and the man had agreed.

Sighing in the face of Raoul's so obvious disbelief, Erik pointed out. _It wouldn't be too difficult to simply ask him. Maybe he was called away by work._

Still doubtful, Raoul tried not to think about it as he went through his morning ablutions. He was beginning to wonder why it was so important that he wake up with Erik in his bed.

_Finally! _

Ignoring that outburst, Raoul pushed that thought aside as well since he knew the answer to that. _I just want to know that Erik's still here._

As he approached the breakfast nook, he overheard Erik and Philippe talking.

Erik insisted, "I said I'd replace the chair."

"I was simply wondering," Philippe replied. "Sorry for interrupting."

Clearing his throat, Erik started again, "It will simply be…" Raoul could even venture to say that he was a little hesitant. That was odd.

"For a week?" Philippe finished, amusement obvious in his voice.

_Brother's picking on Erik again._ Raoul commented.

"Yes." Erik said tersely. Raoul wondered how he could convey such annoyance in one word.

_We're simply skilled as such. _

Raoul fought hard not to grin. He wondered if he should walk in or wait for them to finish their conversation.

_So you can eavesdrop. _

_No. _Raoul said defensively. He couldn't help but worry whenever Philippe and Erik spoke to each other. For some reason, he always had a feeling they were speaking about him.

_Not everything is about you, Raoul._

_I know. That's why I never say anything._ It didn't stop him from wondering. It also didn't help that they usually glanced in his direction when they spoke. _And I would've left to give them privacy._

_Obviously. _Erik replied sarcastically, _since you're still standing right here._

"It's alright." Philippe replied, and Raoul could hear the rustling of the newspaper.

"Really?" Erik hadn't been sure Philippe would allow him to take time off on the job that Erik himself knew was important. It wasn't simply that though. It was whether or not Philippe would allow him because Erik was taking time off the site specifically to spend it with Raoul.

"Truly." Philippe asserted, "The construction site shouldn't fall to chaos without your presence." He added contemplatively, "Lest the men that were hired are completely inept."

"They are more than skilled." Erik interjected. Raoul had a feeling he'd chosen them himself.

Philippe said placatingly, "I trust your judgment." Though it did little to really placate Erik, who was still glaring at him from across the table despite his consideration.

Deciding that any more time he spent lingering by the doorway was indeed eavesdropping, Raoul walked in on Philippe's comment. Erik and his brother were sharing a meaningful look.

_Why does it always feel as though I'm interrupting something important between these two?_

_Maybe you are? _Erik suggested.

_But, _Raoul froze at the entrance of the room as they both turned to look at him,_ it doesn't seem as though they're speaking about the construction site._

_That's very observant of you._

"Good morning, brother," Philippe said cheerfully placing his newspaper down on the table. He added to Erik, "Just send your notes."

"Is something wrong with the construction?" Raoul asked.

"No." Philippe waved his worries off flippantly. "With Erik, of course there are no problems." They shared another look.

Erik turned his attention away from the elder Chagny to look at Raoul, who smiled at him rather hopefully. Erik fought to maintain a neutral expression as he nodded to Raoul. "How was your evening?" He asked evenly, almost changing the question when he saw Raoul's smile falter.

"It was… fine." Raoul sat down at the table and tried not to frown. He didn't know what exactly he'd been expecting but it certainly hadn't been Erik's usual greeting. Maybe they could share look or a small conspiratorial grin, _anything_ other than their normal routine because if he hadn't dreamt what had occurred that morning, then today was anything but normal.

_I told you._ Raoul groused, feeling foolish for even thinking that Erik would visit him in the morning.

Erik actually hesitated. _I still think we should ask him._

_Ask him what? _Raoul retorted. _Excuse me, Erik. Did you happen to come into my bedroom this morning and continue to hold a conversation with me in my bed while we basically held hands? _

Raoul knew Erik could sense the absurdity of saying such a thing, but he refused to back down. _Yes. Ask him __exactly that__._

He didn't have to respond for Erik to know he wasn't going to ask. He ate breakfast in silence, avoiding Erik's gaze and when that became too difficult, he grabbed a section of the newspaper from Philippe just so he could continue to mentally bemoan his own ridiculousness without having an audience. Despite the fact Raoul thought Erik would continue pestering him to just ask aloud, he didn't say anything. Raoul supposed that he was suffering enough with the embarrassment of what he had thought had transpired between them.

Wondering how things could have possibly gotten worse overnight, Philippe looked at Raoul hiding behind the newspaper and Erik staring at him a little guiltily. He had a feeling he'd regret ever losing his temper enough to decide to hold a gathering. It was the right decision of course, since he hadn't been lying when he'd said it had been necessary to assuage their peers' curiosity. But he could've given them a little more time.

He nearly scoffed aloud; what would more time have done? They would still be avoiding each other, skirting around the real issue that existed between them. To be honest, it wasn't as though he thought Raoul was going to find a wife at the party. As charming as Raoul could be, he was almost always aloof with everyone else. He thought Raoul had more of a chance finding a wife at the opera house than any party they might throw. He was simply glad Erik didn't know that.

Lately, Philippe had been entertaining the idea of sitting Raoul down and talking to him about Erik and their association, but he wondered how such sensitive information would be received from him. It wasn't quite his right to share or meddle – any more than he was already doing.

He was nearly done with his breakfast. Erik had yet to touch his, and he couldn't tell if Raoul had eaten anything either. He sighed. Realizing that Erik actually _was_ going to keep staring at Raoul, Philippe commented, "Raoul." He waited until the newspaper dropped and his brother looked at him. He noted that Raoul was completely ignoring Erik. "You've been confined to the estate and working so hard lately that Erik here, thought it best that he keep you company for a while."

Raoul glanced at Erik, who nodded his agreement.

_Stop ignoring him. _Erik pointed out, _It's not his fault you thought he visited you this morning. _

Hating that Erik was right, Raoul smiled at Erik though he was still not quite able to meet his eyes. "I would like that."

o.o.o.o

End chapter 04

A/N: Don't forget to R/R (Read and Review)!  
Chapter Review: Erik and Raoul in a bed, and nothing's happening? I'm more impressed with Erik than I thought possible. And Imaginary!Erik and Erik is impossible to distinguish in the story! D: I don't know what to do. I don't actually want to call him imaginary Erik because to Raoul he's not really imaginary. And I'm not going to call Erik the Opera Ghost because he's Erik to Raoul. So confusing.

Oh, I'll ask again because I can: if you guys know any songs that remind you of Erik/Raoul. I'm in the market for new songs and would love to hear from you guys regarding this.


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